


More than Time and Money

by Zevgirl



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zevgirl/pseuds/Zevgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every now and then he touched her, his hand brushing her arm or legs, making intimate contact, and the feelings she'd thought were under control would bubble to the surface. Fear, lust, anxiety, and affection all mingled<br/>together with the power of a supernova, like a cleansing fire, healing yet all-consuming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Dawn

"Not one word, Joker, or I'll have your balls in a vice before you can whistle Dixie."

"Ouch." Joker looked away when he saw her fists clench. But he was Shepard's friend —probably the best friend she'd ever had—and he'd always been there to lean on, knowing how to carry the weight she unconsciously put on him. "Okay, Commander, I won't mention the Illusive Prick's sudden appearance on the Normandy at this hour. At least not until the Collector mission is over."

"I'm serious, Joker." She stepped forward, staring, her eyes moving as if trying to gauge his concern. "He has some intel we need to discuss in person. Please don't give me any grief tonight."

"Fine." Joker realized, maybe for the first time since meeting her, something other than the mission had her on edge. He figured they were sleeping together, but now he wondered if Shepard had grown too close to the Illusive Man. _Shit, she better not have fallen for that asshole._ "Shepard," he said, then decided on a more personal approach. "Becca, you know his motivations. Just… be careful."

"Noted." She nodded once, forcing a smile she hoped looked at least half sincere.

Taking quick steps away from the cockpit, she moved closer to the Combat Information Center. Kelly Chambers' back was to her as she huddled over a terminal.

"Chambers," Shepard said abruptly. "The Illusive Man is coming aboard for an urgent meeting before we head to the Omega Four relay. Hustle him up to my quarters the second his feet hit the deck."

"Yes, Commander. Do you need anything special sent up?" she chirped. Her serious expression gave her away; she was analyzing Shepard, noting her body language and tone. "Drinks? Snacks?"

"We're not having a tea party, Chambers." Shepard glared at her, resisting the urge to yell. Her dislike for Kelly was on display, but she dialed her annoyance back a notch, if only to keep suspicions at bay as excitement rose in her, the addiction to the Illusive Man tugging at her. Shepard had to hide her attraction to him, her need for his presence, fearing most of the crew would lose respect for her if they knew the truth. Weeks had gone by without seeing him in person, and she'd spoken to him only a few times in the comm room via hologram, alone only two of those times. The separation was eating away at her.

"Just don't give anyone a chance to question him if they're lurking around or suffering from insomnia tonight. Not even Miranda." Kelly's false smile fell and she paled a bit. "And," Shepard added, pointing a finger, "if you can't handle my orders, then find someone who can."

"Will do, Commander. I mean I can handle it!"

"Good."

A brief but loud rumbling indicated the outer airlock had been opened. Watching intently for the Illusive Man, Shepard heard the unmistakable clicking of his shoes echoing above the low hum of the Normandy as he came aboard. When she caught sight of him, her impulse was to rush up and throw her arms around him. Of course she didn't dare. Her loyalties were torn, equal parts guilt and desire rising and constricting her breathing as he moved toward her with purpose. She turned on her heels and headed away. The doors to the elevator slid shut before he could reach her. On the ride up, she laughed to herself, knowing Chambers would keep him occupied with some inane chatter just long enough for her to primp.

Once inside her quarters, Shepard gazed at herself in the mirror, noting the flush spreading from her neck to her ears. She cursed under her breath. _Damn him for having an effect on me_. After smoothing the wrinkles from her officer's dress, she let her hair down, allowing the golden-brown locks to flow over her shoulders. The Illusive Man loved to touch her hair, loved to wind strands around his fingers before pulling her closer. Another glance in the mirror had her second guessing her clothes. Maybe she should have worn something more daring, a revealing dress or lingerie perhaps. No, best to make sure she didn't look like most of the women in his employ. She was the Commander of the Normandy with all the title entailed and she would damn well make that plain.

She stood near the door waiting for his knock, cracking her knuckles and chewing her lip. A rap sounded within a minute, but she hesitated, imagining the breath he was blowing out impatiently. She tapped the control panel, and he greeted her with a slight nod. Her eyes widened to stare at him as his gaze roamed up and down her body, her stomach fluttering with nervous anticipation. He was relaxed and composed wearing a sly smile to go with his smug expression. When he stepped closer, she smelled a hint of cologne, the Bay Rum she was very fond of. So handsome in his plum-colored suit and perfectly coifed hair, she found herself unable to speak, tongue-tied like a schoolgirl.

"I've never seen you at a loss for words before, Shepard."

She cleared her throat. "I know you like to be the first to speak, to give me that critical piece of information I _must_ hear this _very_ second."

"Hm. Mocking aside, that's unusually considerate of you." He stepped closer, taking in her mischievous air as he reached out to brush her hair back. "I see you're in a mood tonight. But you could have worn something more… thought provoking."

"Isn't this just a business meeting?"

His brows rose. "Make me an offer and I may change the agenda."

"Maybe later." She went down the stairs grinning and motioned for him to sit on the couch. "Tell me what's so important that you had to see me in person?"

"Something vital to the mission."

"I got that. So what is it? Some new intel about the base or the relay or what?"

"There is no new information. I wanted to see you in person because this mission is the most dangerous to date. I've procured a new operative if you need another skilled assassin."

"No thanks. But _you_ can come along for the chase. I know you secretly want to." She leaned in to him, anticipating a passionate kiss, aching for it, but he brushed a chaste kiss on her cheek instead.

"My presence would be a distraction and we can't afford the risk."

"Chicken."

He tilted her head up and stared longer than usual. "The holos don't allow me to search your eyes as I can in person."

"I haven't lied about anything, Jack. We're ready. No question." She laid her hand on his chest, felt the warm hardness beneath the fine linen, and smoothed her way downward. "So let's cut to the chase. Admit you only came here for the sex."

His eyes darkened, simmering with offense. "You have so little faith in me, Shepard."

"You've done nothing to make me feel otherwise."

"Haven't I?" He took her hand, and his grip was so warm and firm something moved deep inside her. "The exotic meals on Illium complete with strolling minstrels didn't impress you?"

"I would have been impressed if you'd known how much I love to dance to their music." Silence. The gears in his head were turning, no recollection of her love for dance coming to his mind. This amused her more than anything had in recent months. "Don't beat yourself up, Jack. It's a love I developed later in life, and no one knows about it."

"A point to you," he said, tipping his head in acknowledgment. "But I won't make that mistake twice." A flicker of a smile softened his expression, his brows narrowing in thought. "Be careful on the Collectors' base, Rebecca. Having to care for an invalid would complicate my future endeavors." He tensed for the briefest moment at his candid wording.

 _Another point for me,_ she thought _._ "Is that your way of saying you care for me?" Her voice was light, but her dark green eyes were intense, focused solely on his, not allowing him to look away.

Clearly her nearness was putting him off his game and intoxicating his reason. Of course she'd chosen to attach feelings to something he wanted to see as purely physical. Why wouldn't she? He'd practically proposed marriage with that comment. "That's my way of protecting an investment. In any case, I can't afford to bring you back from the dead a second time."

 _Backpedal all you want_. There was no point in pushing him though. He liked to have all his ducks in a row before diving headlong into anything. "Did I ever thank you for saving me?"

"As a matter of fact, no, you didn't."

"My gratitude runs very deep, Jack." She reached for a bottle of bourbon she'd procured recently, and for a hefty fee. "Really, it does."

"Be careful where you tread, Rebecca." He grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked her head to the side, exposing her neck. The bottle in her hand landed back on the table with a thump.

She moaned softly, then held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her there, to stroke the sensitive column of her neck with his tongue, but the sensation never came. His arms tightened around her though, and he crushed his lips to hers, the fire in his kiss half stealing her breath away.

"I may need convincing of your gratitude," he whispered. "Think you're up for the task?"

"Of course," she said, tugging on his lapels to pull him closer. "Now how about that drink?" _Before I tackle you to the floor and rip your clothes off_. Composing herself, she poured identical amounts into the two glasses; three fingers, neat.

"Impressive. Jim Beam Black is hard to come by these days. Not to mention prohibitively priced." He took a sip, then reached into a breast pocket and pulled out a silver case. The cigarette slipped out and was lit before she could raise an objection. "I hope you don't mind," he said as a cloud of smoke obscured his face momentarily.

"I'll allow you one tonight. Maybe another if you're nice to me."

He gave a short laugh and took two more puffs, following the curls of smoke until they reached the ceiling and dispersed. "I assume you've spent the rest of the money I've given you more wisely."

"Did I say I _bought_ the bourbon?"

"Ah." He took another long drag before stubbing out the cigarette. "Frugality is the quickest route to riches. Or so I've heard."

He caught her shoulder when she was within reach and spun her into his arms for a thorough kiss, not a gentle, tender brush on her lips but a bold possessive claiming that involved teeth and tongues. This was the Jack Harper she couldn't resist, the passionate and fiery lover, his smoky, bourbon flavored kiss sending frissons of desire through her body.

"You seem to be in a mood as well," she said. "And I did buy the bourbon with your money. But I'll pay you back."

"Yes, you will pay me back." He unfastened the first two buttons of her shirt and gently caressed her skin. Beneath his fingers, she drew a sharp breath but remained silent. "All night long, in fact. But business first, Shepard. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

She sighed miserably. "You enjoy teasing me a little too much."

"I do," he agreed quietly, "but I also enjoy pleasing you. Your patience will be well rewarded, don't worry. By the time I'm done with you, you'll have handed your body _and_ soul over to me."

The deep tone of his voice held temptation, dare, and shameless command. It thrilled her, but self-preservation was essential for survival in any situation. She sat up straight and pushed his roaming hands away. "All right. Let's get this damn conversation over with."

They sat together, thigh touching thigh, just as they had so many other times, talking of trivialities as well as recent triumphs, sipping their drinks in easy conversation. Every now and then he touched her, his hand brushing her arm or legs, making intimate contact, and the feelings she'd thought were under control would bubble to the surface. Fear, lust, anxiety, and affection all mingled together with the power of a supernova, like a cleansing fire, healing yet all-consuming.

She was drawn to him just as he was to her, but illusive was a trait for everyone else. Elusive was what he was to her, having no doubt he would change the game play eventually, mix it up enough so she couldn't get a handle on where she really stood with him. He would encourage her feelings with tender touches or aggressive passion, and then crush them with an offhanded or callous remark. There was only one conclusion to draw: their association, while satisfying on many levels, would not end well when all was said and done. _Damn the consequences. I want to enjoy this while I'm alive and able_.

"Now that we're done patting ourselves on the back," she said, twisting her fingers in his hair, urging him closer, "how about we move on to something more… rigorous."


	2. Talk is Cheap

"Something more rigorous?" Jack's mouth curved with a predatory grin. "I think I can accommodate your request."

Starving for his touch, she kissed him with a savagery that shocked her. He was still for only a moment before surrendering, grabbing her face and pressing a desperate kiss to her lips, short and hungry. She found herself biting at his lips, and he bit back, rough and piercing, in a struggle that was as much an attack on each other as a kiss. But then he softened, changing it to something deep and passionate, personal. The kiss ended when they both came up for some much needed air. Rebecca couldn't remember how she ended up on his lap with her arms around his neck, but she didn't move away, and he didn't seem to mind as his eyes fixed on her face.

"You're staring at me," she said, but he didn't respond. "What do you see?"

He took a breath to ease the growing tightness in his chest. "The way you perceive the truth in the world around you. Did you know your eyes crinkle when you smell the blood of an adversary?"

"Please. I'm not that vicious," she scoffed.

"You're every bit as ferocious and possessive as a varren on a fresh kill."

Her eyes opened wide, and a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort came from her. "Ah, you're referring to my comment about Matriarch Trellani the other day."

"A willing participant presented at an opportune moment," he said, waving a hand, dismissing the information as irrelevant. "She had no false impressions of what our relationship was about." He finished what was left of his drink and, gently extracting himself from her embrace, got up to pour another, all without sparing her another glance.

Why was he defending his actions? Harsh judgments and scrutiny were everyday occurrences, and he didn't give a shit about what other people thought of him. Her opinion of his character mattered though. He liked her, respected her, as a woman, as a lover, as Commander of the Normandy, and more importantly, as a person who held similar thoughts about humanity retaining its galactic control above all other species.

"At least she didn't suck your brain dry." She poked his arm playfully as he sat down. "There's no need to feel defensive, Jack. I know how difficult life can be for a playboy."

He growled at the epithet. "Trellani was fascinating. Hypnotic and dangerous, but certainly nothing I couldn't handle."

"Uh huh." Men were so pathetically predictable, ready to roar and beat their chests to prove their masculinity.

"She was a marvelous lay."

She shimmied out of his arms, pretending she wasn't the least bit jealous at the thought of him with another woman. She had no claim on Jack, nor what he did with his life, not when they'd met and not now. It was stupid. _She_ was stupid. The uneasy feeling intensified. "So how do I compare?" He grabbed her hand and guided it lower until she was left with no doubt as to his response. Her smile turned into more of a smirk by the second. "You're not the only one to take advantage of unexpected opportunities, you know."

"Give me some credit, Rebecca. You have no interest in an alien liaison," he said. "Massani is too weathered for you and Jacob is too honorable. Unless…." His expression went flat and then coolly challenging, but the look was gone before she could savor it, covered up behind his careful gaze.

"What was that look all about?"

"Are you thinking of branching out? Embracing eternity with a curvy Asari? If that's the case, I won't dissuade you."

"You'd just love a threesome, wouldn't you?" _Asshole_.

"Are you offering?"

"No such luck. Stick with those Terra Firma twins you're so fond of."

"Fondness was not part of that equation."

"Well it couldn't have been the intellectual conversations. Between the two of them can they even put a sentence together?"

"We didn't speak much," he said. Her face flushed, her whole body tensing, and he watched her for a few seconds before leaning back on the sofa and spreading his arms out. "They were simply a fleeting moment and I was gone long before the sun came up."

 _Son of a bitch, throwing that in my face…._ She was repulsed by his arrogance and smug satisfaction, and at the same time, she wanted him to make love to her until she forgot the rigid code she had imposed on herself, a code that now seemed ridiculous in the face of possible death. "The sun will be up in five hours. Well, at least on Earth. Plenty of time, right?"

"I could take my shuttle back right now." He wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her toward him, pressing her hard against his chest.

"I'd be very put out, not to mention frustrated. And so would you."

His gaze drifted to her bed and then back to her. "Speaking of frustrated, we should-"

She put a finger on his lips. "What did you say to me about patience earlier?" She wriggled away and dropped to her knees, smiling at his weary sigh. "Nice shoes. These alone can fund a mission." Taking his feet in her hands, she slipped off the shoes and tossed them over her shoulder. "You can always pawn your pricey suits for some extra creds too."

"Perhaps I exaggerated when I said I couldn't afford to bring you back from the dead again."

Her eyes rolled dramatically. "Really, Jack?" She pressed her fingertips into the soles of his feet, squeezed and pinched his toes, expertly massaging his ankle with gentle rotations. Her fingers ran along his calf muscles, and she felt the outline of a knife sheath. A low groan escaped him, and she smiled but said nothing as she slowly rolled the sock down, revealing the sheathed knife. "Going old school, huh?" She pulled the blade out and examined it carefully, admiring the intricately carved handle. "Were you worried I'd try to kill you?"

"Of course not," he said as she put the knife on the table, although the thought had crossed his mind. "But members of your team see me as a fanatical and ruthless opportunist."

"And they're right. They probably see me that way too."

"Not quite. The Drell and the Turian both despise me. They'd protect you with their lives."

"Yes, they would. Loyal to a fault," she agreed. "And they have their own code of conduct, but no one else in my crew would hurt you without my okay."

"Well, I can think of at least one other person who blames me for her own… instabilities." His muscles tensed as she continued to run her hands up and down his leg.

"If I was her I'd blame you too. But we're not going to have an argument about the Teltin facility again." She looked at him thoughtfully. "For all her bluster, our Subject Zero wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the mission. You might want to keep your distance once the Collectors are out of the way though."

"You won't protect me?"

She barked a laugh. "You're more than capable, Jack. I don't worry about your ability to defend yourself, whatever the means."

He looked away from her, a small frown on his lips. "What _do_ you worry about, Rebecca? Do you ever worry at all?"

She shrugged. "Not too often." She reflected on the question as she caressed him. The first eighteen years of her life had been nothing but worry, and she thought she'd used up her lifetime quota, more or less. She lost sleep from time to time now, but the events and people on her mind were important only to her. "If I said I worried about you would you believe me?"

"No man is worth your sanity."

"You're right, but you do spend too much time investigating tech that can harm you and the people around you."

He took a deep breath and tilted his head. "If what you say is true, I'm flattered by your concern. But worry is not preparation," he said, keeping his voice low and serious. "It gives the illusion you are preparing yourself when, in fact, the only thing thoughts of fear prepare you for is panic."

"Fuck you, Jack. I never panic." She dropped his leg and downed the rest of her drink, the alcohol lighting a fire in her veins. "Christ, I thought we were past these ridiculously oblique conversations anyway."

He laughed a smooth chuckle, like he'd expected that response from her. "Maybe the control chip wasn't such a terrible idea after all."

"You wouldn't be here now if you'd gone along with Miranda's idea."

"True." He grabbed her arms and pulled her back onto the couch, positioning her so she was lying flat on her back while he hovered right above her. "Your reactions are far more entertaining than any I could have prompted with the push of a button."

She pulled him closer, her hand moving down his lower back in an exploratory way that had him smiling. His hand stroked her face and hair, caressing her gently, and she responded with a soft moan as his fingertips traced her face.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she said, moving up to listen for his answer and quickly added, "Lie to me if you have to."

Something strange crossed his face, a mix of thought and emotion and challenge. An empathetic sigh came from his lips. Slowly he bent forward to whisper in her ear. "I won't lie to you, considering it's a suicide mission you're about to embark on. A little honesty is the least I can offer as this comes down to the end."

The risk involved in the mission was tremendous. How could he be so blasé? Shocked by his casual remark, her hands pushed against his shoulders until they were both sitting upright, face to face.

"What is it, Rebecca?"

"You said 'the end'? You think we won't make it out?"

"Odds are not everyone will make it out alive, but you will. You will because I'm telling you to."

"Oh, I… I misunderstood what you meant." He touched her cheek with his hand and she leaned toward him, a sensual, feminine, and spontaneous movement. "You're still a cocky bastard," she said with a weak elbow to his ribs. His admission of what he honestly wanted touched her in unquantifiable ways. She curled around him and rested her head on his chest, claiming her place beside him. "I should kill you on principle."

"Go ahead and try." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she felt his broad smile. "After the mission."

"Jack," she said, somewhat hesitantly, "after everything we've been through, everything we've done... has anything changed? Have we changed?"

"You haven't," he said, squeezing her. "But over time the way I view you has changed."

Not really the answer she was looking for, but he wasn't about to get into a psychological evaluation of cause and effect. How far could she push him before he shut down? Before he shut _her_ down?

"And how do you view me now? Not as an equal or a partner, that much I know. You may respect and trust in my judgment, desire me when the mood strikes, but that's about where it ends, isn't it?"

"Rebecca, what you're asking for, what you want, is something I can't give to you. Maybe years ago it would have been different, but not now."

"Right. All those pesky things in the way. The Collectors, the Reapers, and more importantly," she paused to take a breath and build up a dramatic air, "our rightful place in the galaxy."

"That is precisely correct." Leaning back with a stern a gaze, she flushed with the intensity of his stare, her theatrics not amusing him. "A white picket fence and children playing in the yard are not in the cards. What exactly do you want from me?"

"Nothing," she said between gritted teeth. "Nothing beyond a good fuck and some time to forget all the other bullshit." God damn him, he was right; it wasn't like she had any ambitious hopes for a happily ever after. Still, her anger continued to flare at his presumption and callousness. "But that doesn't mean I can't wallow in a little self-pity when the mood strikes. Are you so hardened that you can't understand that?"

"What I understand is that a comfortable life is not for people like you and me."

"I get it, Jack. I just want to forget sometimes. And you don't exactly make it easy for me to forget either. You make me so damn… so goddamn... ach!" she said, punching the couch.

"Miserable? Violent?" He raised his eyebrows. "Horny?"

She had to laugh then. "All of the above, yes." But her laughter was tempered by other thoughts, dreams of a life she would never have, wrapped in his arms and forgetting her purpose. _Fuck that_. _Let whatever happens happen_. In a whisper of a voice, she answered. "You make me happy sometimes, you know? And I hope I've made you happy too."

He was not expecting to hear her speak so plainly, and with such warmth. He prided himself on being able to handle any situation that came along, but this threw him. "I'm not saying what we have is insignificant or misguided. There are times when I'm… distracted by you, when I feel like I did years ago, before…."

He looked away from her, to a distant past only he could see, and there was a melancholy about him that made her heart flutter with a vague dread.

"Before what? Shanxi? Tell me, Jack. Does this have anything to do with your exposure to the Prothean artifact?"

"It's a moot point, one I won't discuss with you right now. At any rate, I am no longer that man."

"But you are," she said, turning his head around with a gentle finger on his chin. "You are with me."

"You're delusional, Rebecca. I've been your advocate, your protector, and I've listened to you when no one else would, but I've done so only to further the interests of humanity. You only see who you want me to be, not who I am."

"Bullshit!" Damn his ability to turn it off, to forget what made them human in the first place. He wouldn't get away with it this time. "I know you well enough, Jack. Our relationship is fucked up, no question, but you came here tonight because you think it might be the last time you ever see me. That speaks volumes."

"You are the best and brightest humanity has to offer," he said glibly. "Of course I want to spend time with the great Commander Shepard."

"Don't patronize me, Jack." She leapt from the couch and almost tripped on her own feet as she scrambled to move away from him. "You can reject me and tell me to go to hell, but don't you _dare_ patronize me." The bitter tone in her voice was not one she used often with him, but he was being too slick, too inflammatory. Too distant.

"You're right," he said quietly. "That was uncalled for. We're both on edge about the mission."

"The mission has nothing to do with it."

"You're wrong." He motioned for her to sit beside him, but she folded her arms across her chest and looked away. "Come here and sit down. I'm not trying to push you away."

"I know you're not. You're manipulating the conversation and placing blame on anything but yourself. You're predictable that way."

"I am not predictable."

"Yes, you are. And transparent." She was about to launch into some sort of diatribe about his communication skills and he knew it. The look on his face was priceless. "The suit you're wearing… you wore it because you know it's my favorite. The cologne, too. You only wear Bay Rum when you're with me. Because _I_ like it." She paced the floor, her fingers pawing at her hair until she stopped to yell at him. "And beyond that, I've seen your smile when you think I'm not looking, I've felt your hands on me, Jack. All those things meant to tell me what you can't say to my face. So _don't_ tell me I'm imaging things or suffering from some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. I _know_ how you feel about me." She pinned him with a cold, almost hate-filled gaze, one he'd come to expect. "I'll _never_ think otherwise."

His glass hit the table with a hollow clunk and he scratched his forehead before standing up. As he tried to embrace her, she pulled away, tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. "Come on, Rebecca, don't do this."

"Tonight was a mistake," she said, hardly believing her own ears. It seemed her gamble wouldn't pay off after all. _Damn it!_ Her head felt about to explode. Just looking at him filled her with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, but also peace, shelter, knowing anywhere with him was a place where she could lay everything down for a while and just let him explain all the sadness and regret away. "I want you to leave." She turned her back to him and held her breath as he moved away. Still she didn't look at him, afraid if she did, she would turn around, run to him, and hurl herself into his arms. "And I'm not asking you to go, I'm telling you to."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, and poured himself another drink, then raised it to her in toast as her jaw dropped. "To you, Rebecca. Now stop being childish." His patronizing smirk sent her over the edge.

"I fucking hate you!" she screamed, and threw her empty glass at him. As he easily dodged it, she ran at him swinging wildly. All she wanted to do was beat his face and chest with her fists, but a sense of self-preservation kept her from injuring him. Or maybe it was the half-amused, half-hurt expression on his face when he grabbed hold of her and held her tightly. She struggled to tear herself away from him, without her usual strength, all the while muttering every profanity that came to mind. After a long minute, she weakened in the embrace of the man who, despite everything, still excited her, still tempted her.

"You don't hate me." She glared up at him, her look one of utter confusion. Then he took her mouth in a raw, savage kiss, stealing her breath and robbing her of rational thought. "You can't hate me no matter how much you try."

"You are so goddamn arrogant," she said. "If I _could_ hate you, I'd sleep much better at night."

"I could say the same." His gaze locked with hers, intense now as he took her hands in his. "Now do me a favor and indulge me for a minute, keeping your comments to yourself while I speak."

"Why bother trying to smooth things over? This is going nowhere and nothing you can say-"

"Please, Rebecca. What I have to say is important."

Something that had once amused her softened his appearance; a hint of vulnerability, an almost innocent charm that didn't fit into the world of Cerberus and galactic domination. She watched him as he smoothed some hair back and straightened his collar, a rare moment of restlessness for the Illusive Man. Whatever he had to say was significant enough for him to permit a clear view into his heart, albeit through the smallest of windows. Holding back a sigh, she nodded, allowing him this one demand, hoping to hear something meaningful, anything to give her hope.

"You might as well have a smoke, too." His eyebrows formed a skeptical arch. "I know you want it, Jack."

With a slight smile, he took the case out from inside his jacket and offered her a cigarette. "Ready to take up smoking yet?" She shook her head. "Good for you. It's a terrible habit." He took a deep drag, held the smoke, then blew it slowly up over his head.

They stared at each other for a long moment as she waited for him to speak, the silence heightening the tension in the room. Her thoughts jumbled, panic rising in her gut now. Maybe it wasn't vulnerability she saw but finality. What could he say to her? That he was scared because of the strength and depth of the emotions he was feeling? No, that was her problem, not his. He was going to tell her it was over, that whatever they shared was ultimately doomed and she should forget him. _Impossible_. Her heart rate picked up, her pulse pounding in her ears so loudly she couldn't hear her own thoughts. Her vision began to waver as he opened his mouth to speak, and then her consciousness dimmed. Her last memory was of the firmness of his chest against her cheek and strong arms preventing her fall, only half-conscious of him leading her to the couch. Seconds went by, maybe minutes before she felt his hand on her face.

"Rebecca? Are you all right? You left me for a minute."

"Yeah. Just…." She took a deep breath and sipped from the glass of water he offered. "I haven't eaten much today."

"Are you sure there's no other reason for you to feel faint?" The concern in his voice made her stiffen on the couch as he pulled out an energy bar from his pocket. "Here."

"You're always prepared, aren't you?" She gave him a lopsided smile, then took a bite. "I'm fine, really. Thanks." She rolled her head from one shoulder to the other trying to release some of the tension as she spoke. "So you were going to say something. Lay it on me then," she said, and braced herself for whatever the revelation was hanging between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Biff McLaughlin for the great beta job and for keeping my Shepard in line. Any mistakes here are my fault for messing with this afterward. Almost there, Zute! Next chapter will have all the smut.


	3. And the Truth Will…?

"Are you sure you're all right, Rebecca? Was it something I said?"

"More like what you haven't said, Jack. Just get to it already," she snapped, thinking hyperventilation might set in before he said his piece.

He stared at her, looked as if he was about to speak _,_ then stood up and silently paced. Was he reconsidering? _Or is he getting on his damn soap box again?_ Feeling frustrated and confused, she pushed herself up and off the couch."I have to use the bathroom, Jack. Get your shit together and form some sentences in the mean time."

A brow arched at her remark, and he cocked his head, but his expression held more annoyance than amusement. Rebecca's look was more akin to pure exasperation as she disappeared into the bathroom.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, the irregular scars on her cheek glowing slightly from those damn cybernetic implants. Chakwas had said the inflamed skin was due to anxiety and hostility, and she should try to maintain a positive outlook so they would heal properly. _Easier said than done_. True, recent dark thoughts, mainly the looming threat of the Collector mission, had put more strain on her skin and muscles than she cared to admit.

A few months ago, the scars had been almost nonexistent, right after the Horizon mission. She'd learned Jack had used her as bait, leaking her relationship with Cerberus to lure the Collectors to the Horizon colony, thus proving that the Collectors were actively seeking humans for some reason. Rebecca cursed him for putting the crew in unnecessary danger, for lying, and Jack argued he hadn't lied, he'd only omitted some details. If they had waited, the entire settlement would have been taken instead of only one third. Back and forth it went, neither giving the other any ground until, exhausted, they agreed to disagree.

Jack had personally delivered a custom set of armor to the Normandy as a peace offering. They'd dined together, shared stories, and sipped wine. Like magnets, an hour later they were in bed together, unable to resist the pull of their attraction. All the elements seemed to line up perfectly. They held similar beliefs, had similar levels of intelligence and foresight—and the sex was incredibly intense. But despite it all, their clandestine relationship stressed her out daily. Glimpses into Cerberus had given her a better understanding of the organization too, and her concerns grew due to their "at any cost" mantra. So far, her fears had been unproven, but a voice in her head said "beware" a little too often.

Damn Cerberus. Why did she feel obligated to them? Or rather to him, the Illusive Man. It was a sickness — no a _madness_. Anything to destroy the Reapers. Take my enemies and my friends. My blood and bones. My very soul. _And break my heart in the process_.

And Jack wanted the Collector Base badly, told her it should go to Cerberus when the time came. Studying it would help destroy the Reapers, he had said. Sure it would, but at what cost? Would it help Jack conquer the galaxy? And if so, where did she fit in his new world? Not that it mattered anyway. She'd probably die on the mission, and if she was lucky enough to survive, a court marshal seemed likely due to her being in bed with the enemy—so to speak.

 _Fuck that_. No more decisions, no more questions with vague answers. It was time to put it all behind her, to take control of the one thing Jack, and everyone else, thought her to be weak in—her own happiness, however brief.

She emerged from the bathroom resilient and wanting the best sex of her life with him before everything went to hell. With her head held high, she watched as he sipped on a drink, staring off and thinking of God knew what before he realized her presence.

"And?" she said. "Have something mind-blowing to say about the human condition?"

"Only _this_ condition," he said, gesturing between them. Slowly, thoughtful and even words came from his lips as he moved his arm in a sweeping gesture. "I poured two years and almost everything I had into your recovery, and I don't regret it, but to be honest, you've been a pain in my ass ever since."

"Pfft! And that's supposed to-"

"For a minute, please keep the comments to yourself. It's not a complaint. It's a compliment. You've called me out on many of my decisions, citing poor judgment or unethical behavior, and you've cost me vast amounts of money as a result of your idealistic notions. Not always a wise way to live and yet you continue to achieve the impossible. That is what makes Commander Shepard a leader, a symbol of humanity. A heroine. And we don't always have to agree."

He waited during her dramatic eye roll and exaggerated sigh, then continued. "But Rebecca Shepard, the woman, doesn't like to be set apart or put up on a pedestal. She prefers to blend in when she can and inspire when it's needed. Being all things to all people as the need arises is a tall order, but I always knew you were up to the task. Once I got over the hero worship," he said with a surprisingly self-deprecating laugh, "I began to notice other things about you, personal things." He paused and tipped his head, giving her a warm smile. "You get a fire in your eyes that can't be extinguished, not even with my remarkably witty comebacks."

"Bullshit. That's just the cybernetic implants glowing."

"No, it's not," he said, staring into her eyes. "I'm even amused by your feigned pouts, but the outbursts, well… I could do without those."

"What the f-" His fingers sealed her lips with incredible speed, and he gathered her into his arms. She felt equal parts grateful for his flattering assessment and resentful for being his charity case. None of which she planned to tell him. She wasn't sure how much longer she could go on without speaking, without holding him tight enough to squeeze the air from his lungs. But he wasn't done.

"The result of Project Lazarus was utterly satisfying professionally, but more so personally." She relaxed in his arms, his often unseen humility dissolving her agitation. "It's no wonder your crew is willing to follow you into hell. They believe in you. I believe in you. The effect you have on me is... I'm not sure what the word is for it."

Rebecca wondered if she ought to supply "the word" as her grip on him tightened.

"I admire you, Rebecca. I admit I'm also a bit fascinated with you, and always tempted by you. But I've never felt indifference toward you. It would be impossible to feel indifferent about a woman who stirs such loyalty in her companions," he said with a sprinkle of respect in his smile. "You are an enigma, certainly."

His honesty brought color to her cheeks, the intimacy between them now almost unbearable. This side of Jack was a welcome change, and the urge to say everything overwhelmed her good sense.

"Jack, you know me better than anyone else, and I never thought we'd end up where we are, but this thing between us is more than one hand washing the other. It's more personal than the teasing insults we sling at each other during strategy breaks. And it's certainly more than gratitude on my part, or yours. I think you know where I'm going with this."

At the gentle touch of her fingertips on his face, he closed his eyes and pulled away but kept a grip on her hand. "Rebecca, you don't believe in love. I think the exact phrase was 'love only exists when there is freedom.'" She flinched as he quoted her words back to her. "It's just sex or lust. Boredom. Simple escape at best."

"I was wrong, ignoring what I felt."

"Rebecca," he said again. "We've always said no questions and no promises. Why are you pushing this? Pushing _me_?"

"I'm not pushing anything. I need to tell you how I feel, to... to just fucking _say_ it, in case I don't–" _See you again_. She stopped speaking, her voice catching in her throat as her hand flattened on his chest.

A serene, almost cocky expression remained on his face, even though his body tensed. It was almost imperceptible, the change that came over him then. He was suddenly touching her in ways that had her sighing and curving herself around him, his hands carefully placed on the small of her back, his breathing just a little more shallow, his lips slightly turned up and parted with unspoken sentiments.

"Christ, Jack, I just want you to know what you mean to me, how these last months have changed my life in ways I can't even fathom. Is that so bad?" His growing smile, accompanied by an affectionate squeeze, was her undoing. "I love you. There. I had to say it, to admit it, for my own sanity, goddamn it all."

At first he didn't move, didn't speak. He just kept staring at her. Rebecca knew she'd sounded desperate, but for once, she simply didn't care. There was freedom in her admission, in her honesty, and she didn't regret it. She couldn't.

Heat surged to her cheeks as he reached out to caress her face, stroking his thumb across her lips. The feather-light touch had her trembling and he'd hardly done a thing.

"Don't ever change, Rebecca. And don't get yourself killed. I don't want to find out how your death would affect me."

Her eyes stung as she heard those words from him. He didn't say he loved her, but he didn't have to. She felt his love all the same. Then he claimed her mouth, no heated and seductive phrases, only passion. The kiss was as hard and unyielding as she knew the reality of the man to be, reminding her that no matter how gentle he was, how thoughtful and even loving, he was still a man who had mysterious layers. It was a dangerous and seductive combination, but that knowledge only served to heighten her desire for him.

She gave herself up to the kiss and melted against him. As his hands moved over the curves of her waist, he shifted to let her head rest on his shoulder for a moment, and she relaxed blissfully in his embrace. Impatience fueled her craving for him though, and she began unbuttoning his shirt, using her fingernails to gently scratch his chest, teasing a sharp intake of breath from him. But after she did so, he stepped back.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Nothing is wrong. I… I could use a smoke though, but I won't."

"Thanks for having a little self-control," she said, but his expression remained serious. She'd never seen him fail to keep his emotions under control. He was always poised, always subdued, but this was different. He was visibly caught off-balance by her admission.

Jack's eyes narrowed with the effort of collecting his thoughts. "Don't say anything else that can't be taken back."

"I don't want to take it back. It's… _right_ , Jack. I know it is," she said, feeling protective as she watched him struggle with raw emotions, his face clearly mirroring an inner fight. "But if you don't want to be here anymore, if I've made you uncomfortable, then tell me. Be honest with me."

"I have been honest with you, far more honest than I intended to be in the beginning." Of course he didn't want to leave, and yet, he couldn't say what she wanted to hear. It bothered him to treat her this way. She deserved more from a lover, much more, but if he encouraged their relationship… no. No, he'd already said too much. Her loyalties would be torn in the end, swayed by a fleeting love for him. Everything would change; all the plans and schemes that had been carefully crafted would fail. As long as he showed affection but never said those three words….

He brushed some stray hairs from her eyes before crushing his mouth to hers again, capturing her lips with a kiss of such passion it made her head spin. "Now you look as if you have been thoroughly kissed."

"Jack, I want to-"

He shifted his thumb across her lips again, effectively silencing anything else she might have said. "Bear with me a moment longer."

In the silence that followed, she watched him, dumbstruck, as he picked up the stereo remote and punched some buttons. The opening sounds of a soulful tune dating almost two centuries before the First Contact War filled the room.

… _the way I feel about you, girl, I just can't live without you…._

"What is this?" she asked, stifling a giggle. "And can I pretend you're singing it to me?"

"Come here," he said in a low growl, and whatever else he was muttering was lost to her in the heat of his mouth and the strength of his arms. "Just listen to the music."

_I'm never, ever gonna quit, cause quittin' just ain't my schtick._

_I'm gonna stay right here with you, do all the things you want me to._

"Your _schtick_?" She laughed, but not too boisterously, as the smile on his face faltered at her taunt.

"I knew I should have turned the vocals down." With one hand on the small of her back, and the other clutching her hand, he began to dance. "Yes, the lyrics are somewhat clichéd, but the music is soothing. Sensual as well as romantic. And I know you have an absurd love for romance."

"You thought of me when you picked this song? Wow." _Who is this man dancing with me?_ She couldn't stop the thrill rushing through her body any more than she could push aside the love she held for him in her heart. A soft kiss from her lips tickled his cheek, as it always did when he touched her heart in inexplicable ways. "Where did this song come from anyway? I've never heard it before."

"It's a soulful singer of the twentieth century. He was very popular with couples around Valentine's Day."

" _Twentieth_ century? How did this ever survive over the years?"

"An underground music movement has always existed on Earth and money can buy just about anything. This is from my _personal_ collection, meaning no one but me has listened to it. It's only available when the correct password is entered." His eyes warmed with a flash of humor. "Predictable, hm?"

Their eyes locked briefly, and she followed the rhythm as he pressed his cheek to hers, letting the comfort of being in his arms wash over her. A fierce passion stirred within her and she sighed, closing her eyes and imprinting the moment in her mind. Together they swayed to the music, their bodies molding, their breaths mingling as his hands roamed over her back, stroking her and gathering her even closer to him.

With a movement so swift she had no time to object, he whirled her fully around and dipped her backward. Her hair brushed against the floor, and he held her there, his eyes challenging as she smiled back at him before pulling her upright into a long and lingering kiss.

"Feel free to take back your earlier comment," he whispered.

"Of course I would protect you if any of the crew started taking shots are you."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Okay, yes, you're not as predictable as I thought. You shocked me with the dancing." Her heart thudded in her chest as the music came to a crescendo, an erotic rhythm almost matching the building energy surrounding them. She took his hands and led him toward the bed, peeling off his suit jacket in the process. "Have anything else you'd like to share?"

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve." With excruciating slowness, he unbuttoned her shirt, slipping it off her shoulders. "If you behave, maybe I'll show you some." He kissed his way down her neck and chest, and she groaned as her back arched.

"Mmm, that's more like it." He slipped a hand under her bra, and she felt her nipples tighten in response. She jerked backwards, bumping into the table and knocking his knife to the floor.

He laughed. "So much for moving with the poise of a dancer."

"You're a distraction, Jack." Knowing she moved more like a boxer than a ballerina, she laughed at her lack of grace. "So what's the story with that knife? A memento from your misspent youth?"

"A memento, yes." A thought seemed to hit him like a freight train, but he quickly regained clarity, his eyes narrowing. "I was fourteen. A vagrant broke into our home. He reeked of gin and sweat," he said, sneering. "As he was going through a drawer, my dog attacked him. He pulled a knife from his boot and stabbed the dog in the chest, killing it. I tackled him to the floor and wrestled the knife away, then used it to slit his throat. I was never without a knife again," he said, a coldness in his voice sending a chill down her spine.

"Way to kill the mood, Harper." A momentary look of regret came over his face. "I'm kidding!" Without thinking, she took his finger into her mouth. He inhaled sharply as she drew it deeper, savoring its clean taste. "It would take more than that to turn me off right now."

"Horny tonight, are you?"

"Very." He held her wrist as she rubbed his hardness through his suit. Leaning forward, he kissed her again, and this time she sucked on his tongue and began making little moaning noises, tempting him. "So," she whispered, coming up for air, "that knife means a lot to you then?"

"It came in handy later on… But yes, it means a lot, as does anything I've fought for." Dispelling a brief, faraway gaze, he met her eyes directly. "Or anyone."

He had no idea what hit him when she flung him onto the bed. Landing on top of him, she straddled his hips and held his wrists down, then assessed his stunned expression. "Don't look so surprised, Jack." A triumphant grin spread across her face. Adrenaline fired through her body, knowing he could easily have her flat on her back and under his control. "I want you naked," she whispered against his mouth.

"By all means, Commander. Do what you must." Using her title, she understood that for one brief moment, he'd allowed himself to be subordinate. "Just be gentle," he added with a wink.

Grinning, she yanked his shirt up and over his head before he fumbled to unclasp her bra. Bumping noses and foreheads, they readjusted and resumed kissing until her bra was tossed over a shoulder. Then, not a spot on his exposed skin was ignored, her lips trailing to kiss his neck, firm chest and taut stomach. Unbuckling his belt, her attention focused lower. She moved a finger around the front of the elastic band of his underwear.

"Hmm, boxers or briefs tonight?" He only smirked at her, sighing as she unbuttoned his pants. "Or a combination…." He watched as a shrewd smile brightened her face. "You know I _love_ these purple boxer-briefs."

He sat up and swiftly grabbed her hips, pulling her closer. "You're so damn hot when you're enthusiastic," he murmured near her ear, his smooth hands easing into her pants.

"Do you ever miss that excitement?" she asked, sitting back on her calves and sliding the boxer-briefs down to his ankles.

"This is far more exciting." He yanked her back up and fondled a breast, kneading it with his fingers.

"You know what I mean. Once a mercenary, always a mercenary, as they say."

"I channel my energy in more effective ways now." He removed her pants and underwear in one strong but deft pull downward. "Killing for pay does not make one an admired leader, nor does it keep one alive for very long."

"Admired leader? I don't think I've heard that one," she teased. "Reclusive tycoon, fanatical humanist… and oh, my personal favorite," she said moving her lips to his ear and nipping aggressively, "mysterious maverick." Then she felt him tense. _Shit. What now?_

"The future of humanity is at stake, Rebecca. I'm merely doing my part to ensure humans remain on top of the food chain so we can advance our agenda on the galactic front."

"Yeah, yeah. You don't trust in the Councilors' ability to do that. Too many cover-ups, blah, blah, blah."

"Political instability among the Quarians is more of a concern to me than killing every Geth in the galaxy. The Councilors are weak-minded and shortsighted, as are all the sheep who follow them blindly."

"I don't disagree. But we're doing what we can. Maybe you should throw a party and give them a lecture, making sure all the newsfeeds air it." She shook her head. "Oh no, you _can't_ do that. No one can know what you look like now, isn't that right, Illusive Man?"

"You're starting to sound like Miranda. I'd hate to have to discipline you as I did her last week."

"Did you slap her on the ass before or after the blowjob?"

"Miranda got off with a just warning. Kelly, on the other hand.…"

"Funny, Kelly never mentioned that, and she tells me everything. I think you're lying, Jack."

"And I think you're jealous, Rebecca." He raised her head with a nudge of his finger to see what her face could tell him. She wore a challenging expression, mouth set, eyes narrowed, not the least bit a shrinking violet. "Would you _like_ to be the recipient of one of my special punishments? To be one of the proud few?"

"I know for a fact that you haven't had any type of relations with those two. The Shadowbroker is my best friend, in case you've forgotten. You're an ass for even trying to pull that one off."

He laughed. "We _were_ having a civil discussion until you started in on me."

"Fine then. Back to our previous conversation." Why was she continuing to provoke him instead of nipping the conversation in the bud? She did love getting him riled up, seeing the passion burn in his eyes as he spoke. And lighting a fire in him so scorching she might never recover if she got too close to the flames sounded very good just then. "So are you looking for some sort of respect or acknowledgment from the frightened masses and their leaders?"

"I don't need anyone's approval or respect for my actions," he said with a hint of a mocking grin around the corners of his mouth.

"You know, Jack," she said, using a tone he hated, "Zaeed once told me that most people can't tell the difference between a professional killer and psychopath." She allowed a little bitchiness to quirk her smile, and the words on her tongue came out easily. "I'm not sure where you fit in there."

"Why are we having this conversation now?" He caught her by the arms and flipped her over, holding her down with the weight of his body. With his mouth, he muffled what was sure to be a weak protest, kissing her greedily. "I think you're purposely trying to anger me, Rebecca."

"Am I?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

"Yes, because you want it rough tonight. Hard and deep. You want to forget all the death and responsibility around you and just feel alive."

She reached down to stroke him. "Maybe."

"Well so do I. And this is how I feel alive." He grabbed her roughly and pushed her thighs apart. "I plan to fuck you until you can't walk straight... If that's all right with you."

Her eyes went wild, and she writhed against him, drinking in his kisses, grasping at his shoulders and back as she fought to bring herself closer to him. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her, and it was intoxicating. "Jesus, Jack, get to it already."

Two fingers plunged into her fast as his tongue swirled around a nipple. Tiny nips and sucks had her squirming, his whispers of things to come sending more shivers of delight down to her toes. Some of those things were already in progress, and that had her shifting and pressing against him, doing everything in her power to guide him toward giving her more, all of which only got her a chuckle.

He moved back to her mouth, kissing her with abandon, and she gave in, desire driving her to kiss him as though she hadn't in a thousand years. That was certainly what it felt like. He set a furious pace, and she met his hand's every thrust, rolling her hips in time. She shuddered and cried into his mouth as she clenched around his fingers. She was ready for him so quickly, and she saw the excitement in his gaze, heard it in his whispered promises. It energized him to know that she was as hungry for him as he was for her, and that made her supremely happy.

But she was close, too close as his nimble fingers brought her to the brink. Just when she was about to come apart, he stopped, a wicked grin playing on his lips. Lust filled his gaze, and he pulled her up, tucking a pillow under her hips before letting her relax back onto the bed. It left her exposed, giving her a thrill like never before.

"And so, Rebecca, it has come to this." Goose bumps rose on her bare flesh where his eyes roamed freely across her skin. "Tell me, what's next?"

"Jack, I want… please, just…."

"What do you want? What do _I_ have that you want?" She remained helplessly still as he trailed gentle fingers over her rounded contours before brushing a thumb across one tender peak of her breasts. "You have everything, and yet you want more."

"Not everything. I want you, Jack. Make love to me and…." She paused breathlessly. For a moment, she thought the words might scare him, that too much tenderness might put him off, but the longing and affection in her voice only served to make him harder. He encircled her in his arms and pulled her in. She kissed him, gently at first, then more urgently. Grabbing his face, she felt him wince, heard him groan. "That's all I want, Jack... from you, from tonight. Just make love to me."

"Judging by the grip you have on my head, refusing you would decidedly _not_ be in my best interest."

She laughed. "Correct."

She loosened her hold, but he didn't loosen his as his face softened. Then he smiled. "Owning Illium would be incredibly satisfying, don't you think? The Crescent Nebula should be easy enough to take."

Her eyes narrowed for a second. A strange thing to mention in the heat of passion. "Sure. But let's discuss conquering the galaxy another day."

"I wish I could give you more," he said, gazing in to her eyes, yet not really seeing. "What you deserve."

 _Is he for real right now? I think he is._ "I don't need Illium, Jack. I only need _you_." She stared at him, her hair fanning out around her face, color staining her cheeks, her eyes flashing. "That sounded pretty cheesy, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"I don't really care. Just give me yourself tonight and I'll be happy."

 _Myself_. In such a darkened universe, she was the one bright, shining light in his life, like a rogue comet. At that moment, he wanted her more than any woman he'd ever wanted, to give her more. But how could he knowing what the end result would be? This wasn't a woman looking for a one night stand either—yes, she was under him, moving with him, touching and caressing and opening to him. That, he could understand. But what she really wanted were the same things he did, the comforts. He longed to have her snuggle up to him in sleep every night, to smile at him over morning coffee and newsfeeds. Massaging her tired muscles as she teased him about his obsessive hygiene practices and unhealthy habits would be a dream come true, a wonderful life for any man. Any man but him.

For tonight though, he would savor the moment _and_ the woman, live it without thoughts of the future. Right now there was just the two of them, and he wouldn't let anyone, not even himself, ruin what they were sharing.

"All right. For the next few hours, I'll let you have me."

She smiled at him, blinking away the sting of unexpected tears. "And I mean _all_ of you."

"You'll get it all." He leaned in and pressed his lips to her ear. "I'm going to make you come over and over again, and just when you think you can't take anymore, I'll tease you until you beg me for relief. And _that_ is a promise." She trembled, but not from anxiety; it was pure excitement.

Slowly his tongue trailed down and up her inner thigh until he kissed her where she ached. She moaned at the feel of his lips against her, his tongue sweeping across her as her hips snapped up to meet his mouth. Holding her breath, she writhed in anticipation of his tongue plunging deeper. When he hesitated, she looked down to find him staring up at her. The raw, possessive look on his face stole her breath away.

"Just wanted to remind you of who you'll be making love to."

"No need. Jack."

He moved over her body, straddling her waist. Arousal flared in her as her muscles tightened and twitched while he stared down at her. He spread her legs wider and sank into her, listening to her gasp and cry out before reaching with both hands to twist her nipples between his fingers. He held onto them, pulling and tugging at the tips as he continued to push into her.

She moaned with every thrust as they got harder and faster. Shivers ran up and down her body; every part he touched within her sending shock waves of sensation through her. Matching the tempo of his strokes, she drew him in deeper, keeping her eyes open, as fascinated by the intensity of his stare as the ripples of pleasure pumping through her. _His eyes. His marvelous and ageless eyes, so cool but alive._

Low groans escaped him with every thrust of his hips, driven by a throbbing, primal need. She threw herself into it, searching for ways to use her body to pleasure him just as he was using his to pleasure her. And if they wrestled, she suspected he enjoyed it as much as she did. Both shook with the effort to stay in control, to wait, to make the moment last.

"More Jack… give me more." She gasped and clutched his shoulders, whimpering with every groan in her ear, digging her nails into his back.

The slight pain was good. It helped him focus on his task. He wanted it to be perfect for her, as perfect as she'd always been for him. Then his muscles coiled. He thrust once more before everything dissolved around them.

It was an orgasm of such overwhelming intensity that she felt as if she were in another world, on another plane, a spiritual and overwhelming place of self-awareness. She stroked his back, murmuring, "God, Jack… yes," as he came, her name rough on his lips. This was it, the perfect moment, and he strained and strained until there was nothing left. Even then, she didn't want it to end.

When he collapsed next to her, the bed bounced under his weight. For some reason that made her laugh. He answered with a chuckle of his own, and slipped an arm around her waist. Nestling into the warm contours of his body as he lay on his side, she was content to be in his arms and basked in the sense of security he gave her.

"I have a request," he said, still breathing heavily.

"Already? Can't you give me a few minutes to recover from that?"

"The fact that you need recovery time is somewhat pathetic." The punch he received was rather hard, but he knew it was coming and deflected some of the blow by rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. "I had something less taxing in mind. A shower."

"Ah." Something about his tone didn't convince her, and she eyed him suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling that taking a shower really means steamy, hot bathroom sex?"

"Your instincts may be right. Or, they may be wrong. We'll see."

"Tease." She gave him a long, considering look before throwing the sheets off and dragging him toward the bathroom.

* * *

Three hours of making love, showering and making love again went by. Jack felt drugged and dazed—and desperate, mostly to have her again, but also partly to leave while the saner part of his brain still had a say in the matter.

He watched as her eyelids fought sleep, and just before her conscience slipped into a dream, he whispered to her. "I enjoyed tonight, Rebecca. But I think you should get some rest now. The Omega-4 Relay is only a day away from here." He felt her stiffen as she twisted around to face him.

"So, I guess you'll be heading back to Cronos now that-"

"No." He cut off her words, his kiss scorching, possessive and protective at the same time. This could be their last kiss and, by God, he'd make sure she'd never forget it. "I'm perfectly happy here. It's… comfortable. Uncomplicated. That's soon to change, I'm sure." As the words rolled off his tongue, his eyes pinched closed.

"What do you mean? Is this about the mission?"

Her gaze was scrutinizing. It was hard to fool her now, after all the intimate moments shared the last few hours.

A mask of calm practicality stole over his face. "We need to get a leg up on the Reapers with the intel the Collectors' Base holds. I'm confident in your ability to do so, Rebecca, but I also have to be prepared, to think of a plan B, and C and D, should the mission fail in any way."

"You worry too much, Jack. We'll get the intel and take care of the Reapers when the time comes."

"I know we will," he said, reassuringly. "Once you've acquired their base, we can move forward with some other plans guaranteed to help us understand the Reapers more clearly."

"What is there to understand? They want to take us out and we need to take them out first."

"There may be other ways to outsmart them. We need to look at it from every angle."

Controlling them was the key, using their tactics against them. Jack knew it but couldn't prove it. Not yet. Luckily, other strategies had already been put in motion by him, new _acquisitions_ for Cerberus, including more cybernetically enhanced employees. Project Overlord was in full swing, and a Cerberus lab awaited his order to finish the implanting of Reaper tech into Paul Grayson. Hopefully these experiments would yield the information Cerberus needed to understand indoctrination. It would all come together eventually, but Rebecca didn't need the details just yet. First things first.

"Good thing we have you on the job, Jack, but I think it's just a matter of sending their asses back to wherever they came from. That's my simple plan."

"Nothing is that simple, Rebecca." He glanced down at her and kissed the top of her head. "But enough talk. Let's relax while we can."

She snuggled closer and smiled against his bare chest, and he could only hope that the troubling things darkening his voice were lost to her in that moment of intimacy.

* * *

Rebecca awoke alone. Though he had stayed with her far longer than he ever had, she wasn't surprised he'd slipped away while she slept. Still, she longed for his warmth. When she rolled over and grabbed his pillow, clutching it tightly and breathing in the lingering scent of Bay Rum, she noticed his dagger on the nightstand, and beneath it, a datapad, the flashing light indicating there was a message for her.

"He left me his knife," she said. "I never would have predicted that either." She held the datapad above her face, feeling a bit melancholy as she sank back into the pillows.

_Rebecca,_

_I thought you might like to have the knife, if for no other reason than to remind you of last night. Use it well, if you do. And don't worry, I have others._

_I owe you another dance, so come back in one piece and I'll make sure to show you some more impressive moves, both on and off the dance floor. We can go back to Illium, or we can go to Donovan Hock's mansion on Beckenstein. Did I mention I bought the place after you killed him? I know you were impressed with the lake views there, and the hot tub. Or if you have another idea, I can be flexible. Well, maybe not quite as flexible as you are, but I'll work on that._

_Good luck_ _and keep the commlink open once you arrive at the Collectors' Base_.

_Yours,  
Jack_

"Mine," she whispered. "If only you were, Jack."

The message slowly disappeared as she reread it, automatically converting into an unhackable digital code. "I'd rather have _him_ with me than this knife."

She sighed. Sadness settled in her heart, or maybe it was envy for those allowed to be in his presence every day, but only briefly, as EDI's voice echoed through the room. "Commander, the crew is assembled in the briefing room awaiting your arrival."

"I'll be there in a few minutes, EDI. Have Garrus review the minutes from our meeting the other day."

"Yes, Commander."

"Back to work," she said to herself. "I guess I can just get dressed since I showered only a few hours ago." She smiled at the thought of Jack expertly washing her hair. His touch had been so gentle as he covered her body in lather, massaging her shoulders, arms and legs. But when he was done, the look in his eyes had turned predatory, his touch deliberate. He'd grabbed her hips roughly, bent her over, and fucked her with a ferocity that left her panting for more.

"Soon."

The memory put a spring her in step. Once dressed and ready, she made her way to the briefing room, albeit a little slower than usual—and veering into a wall once or twice.

 _I guess he did fuck me until I couldn't walk straight,_ she thought with a chuckle. _Well, payback's a bitch. Next time he'll need a cane to get around when I'm done with him._

A cool breeze chilled the briefing room when she walked in with squared shoulders, speaking in a clipped tone. "All right, people. Let's talk about hitting these assholes where it hurts. I have no intention of getting killed because we weren't well enough prepared. No casualties on this mission. And that's a goddamn order."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind, just because Shepard is a hardcore soldier doesn't mean she won't vent her emotions on occasion, especially to Jack, the only person she's ever felt comfortable enough with to let inside her mind. She's human, after all. The Shepard in the game is practically inhuman in her ability to repress, but we do see cracks in her armor sometimes, especially once she's involved with an LI. Love isn't a simple emotion, so this story will include things like disillusionment, betrayal, healing, bliss, hope, etc. It is a love story in the end.


	4. To the Edge of the Universe

Rebecca sat back, relishing the quiet of her cabin. Another calm before the shitstorm that was the Collectors' Base. A side trip on the way pushed back the Omega-4 Relay trip by two days. The stopover on Aite was brief, but a colossal pain in the ass.

"Send a message to C Station, from APShep to SM."

… **Connecting to C Station…C Station Acknowledged…Encrypting…**

… **Connecting APShep to SM...Connection established…Ready to transmit…**

_**APShep** _ _: Hey, Jack. You busy? Been a shitty few days._

_**SM** _ _: No doubt. You haven't slept much lately either._

_**APShep** _ _: Please stop spying on me._

_**SM** _ _: Not spying. Observing. Occasionally._

_**APShep** _ _: Pervert._

_**SM** _ _: You like it._

She smiled for a moment, staring at the screen.

_**APShep** _ _: That entire mission on Aite was a clusterfuck, you know. I almost died like 20 times._

_**SM** _ _: Two times actually. But you're right, and I apologize. I thought it would be a quick stop. I wasn't aware of how far Archer had gone._

_**APShep** _ _: His own fucking brother! How could he do that?_

_**SM** _ _: Agreed. He was out of control._

_**APShep** _ _: Asshole never appreciated what he had. If I still had my_

"Shit. I have to delete that. Not gonna go there."

_**APShep** _ _: Fuck it. Just don't ask me for any more favors._

_**SM** _ _: Noted. Let's focus on the Collectors' Base. Are you ready? Who are you taking?_

_**APShep** _ _: Ready? Ridiculous question. I'm taking The Drell and the Turian. You approve?_

_**SM** _ _: I don't have to approve. Keep your eye on the prize._

_**APShep** _ _: Yeah, yeah._

"Commander, everyone's waiting for you. We're twenty minutes from the Omega-4 Relay."

"Be there in a few, Joker."

_**APShep** _ _: I have to go. Almost at the relay and the team's waiting._

_**SM** _ _: Good luck then. Keep me in the loop as much as possible._

_**APShep** _ _: Is that all?_

_**SM** _ _: No. Tell me what AP stands for, but more importantly, what SM stands for._

_**APShep** _ _: No._

_**SM** _ _: Solar modulator? Sado masochist? Sex machine?_

_**APShep** _ _: Very funny, but no. And I'm not saying right now either._

_**SM** _ _: Fine._

_**APShep** _ _: Don't drink and smoke too much while I'm out saving your ass from extinction._

_**SM** _ _: No promises there, All Purpose. No. Armor Piercing?_

_**APShep** _ _: Nope._

_**SM** _ _: Always Perfect?_

_**APShep** _ _: Close. And that would fit too. But it's All Powerful._

_**SM** _ _: Ah. In some ways, yes. All right, I'll see you soon, AP. Be careful._

_**APShep** _ _: Yup._

Disappointment flooded her veins, plain and simple. _I won't ask him to say it, but why can't he just fucking say it?_ _Could be his last chance_. And then she waited for a response. _Say it once, Jack. Just once._

_**SM** _ _: We need you, Rebecca, every human in the galaxy. Please come back in one piece._

" _That_ same old line?" she yelled at the screen.

 _ **SM**_ : _If not for them, then for me._

Her heart skipped a beat, the same way it always had when he said something surprisingly sweet. "You're killing me here. Well, that's progress anyway. I think."

_**APShep** _ _: Don't worry, I'll be fine. And I have my knife, the one you gave me. A little extra protection._

_**SM** _ _: It was meant as a gift and a reminder of that night. Don't rely on it._

_**APShep** _ _: Really? Picture my eyes rolling now. Ha!_

_**SM** _ _: Have I mentioned how much I hate messaging with you?_

_**APShep** _ _: I've lost count of the times. Seriously though, knowing I'll see you in a few days will make this mission a snap. I'm really looking forward to some R &R. _

_**SM** _ _: Good to know. We'll make the most of it. I promise._

_**APShep** _ _: See you soon. Bye, Jack._

_**SM** _ _: I'm not going to say goodbye, Rebecca. But I will leave you with something I've thought about recently._

"Oh, here it comes, some kind of practical instruction … but hopefully not." She settled in her chair, with a little shiver of anticipation.

_**SM** _ _:_ _I generally forget people after I meet them, and maybe they forget me too. Though most of them don't know who I really am. Sometimes I meet a person who leaves their mark for a bit longer than others, but not too often. One time though, and one time only, I met a woman I will never forget. No matter how hard I try._ _Stay safe._

… **Communication ended…**

The lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She slumped in her chair, balling her fists to keep her emotions in check. "You make me crazy, Jack. Utterly crazy," she said, shaking her head. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and thought of him, pictured him, saw the smile reserved for her and no one else in the galaxy. _That's just his way. I know that, damn it._ A few more days. A mere seventy-two hours until they were together again.

Her excitement was tempered though, knowing that first, the Normandy had to survive the trip through the Omega-4 Relay. Once through, she and her crew had to defeat the Collectors, and on their own territory. It wouldn't be a simple "kill the bad guys and steal their intel" type of mission either. It would be complicated, requiring swift yet methodical decisions. The danger they faced was far more than she, with any crew, had suffered through in the past. Even stopping Saren seemed straightforward compared to this.

Her stomach constricted with a sharp stab of dread as she headed for the briefing room.

* * *

"Shit! Krios, kill that insect before-"

A blast echoed through the comm. If Jack's eyes had been closed, he would have sworn he was right beside Rebecca inside the Collectors' base.

"Shepard? What's going on?"

Nothing but a slight hum now. All along he'd heard the sounds of gunfire and explosions, the pounding of her booted feet moving, sprinting, and then her reassuring voice would tell him what had happened. This was different. Unnatural. The commlink crackled with the sound of heavy breathing again.

"Shepard, are you there?"

"I can't-" Another hiss rattled his ear drum. "…are down. Get that one, Krios! Damn it, Garrus, watch his six!"

He heard more shots and some shouting, the Drell yelling something that sounded desperate, his voice much more uneasy than usual. Shepard shrieked, garbled swears coming over the comm.

"Need medi-gel… shit… can't…."

The vulnerability in her voice wrenched his gut. He'd always dismissed her theatrics when retelling a firefight as irrelevant, dire moments blown out of proportion for a reassuring touch or gesture of affection. But now he heard a real edge in her voice, a desperate edge, and it bothered him more than it should have. Despite his unease, he wouldn't allow himself to seem overly concerned. "Shepard, what's your status? Is someone hurt?" He cursed the involuntary emphasis of that last word. _Damn it._

"Hell of a shot, Krios!" she said, and rather triumphantly.

As relief washed over him, he heard it, that evil laugh she rarely had the opportunity to use against him.

"Aw, so you do care, Jack."

"Rebecca." He said her name so softly, it was almost reverent. "That was bitchy, even for you." He rose from his chair and secretly smiled.

"Nice thing to say to _me_ of all the people in your life."

Sounding like a teenaged girl on her first date, he cringed at her excitable tone. "Damn it, Shepard," he said, his demeanor calm and collected as he went back to his chair, "your focus should be on the base and not on trying to get a rise out of me."

"Oh, lighten up, Jack."

Though he knew this kind of flippancy was merely an attempt to cover up the tension building inside her, he wanted to read her the riot act for being so glib.

"I'm fine, by the way," she said. "Just a minor hiccup."

"Minor, hm?" So this was how it was going to be then. Every near-death experience to be followed by a testing of his… what? Fondness for her? How ridiculous. Yet oddly appealing. "Where are you now?"

"In the bowels of the base. This whole place… I have never laid eyes on anything more sickening. Did you know about this thing? This human Reaper?" Her voice held some accusation but astonishingly little anger.

"No. Of course not."

"I hope you're not lying, Jack."

The question of her trust in him was a loaded one, and he knew it. Best to let that lie until they were done with the mission. "I'm not, Shepard. You have to trust me."

"Okay. In any case, EDI told us how to take it down." The uncertainty in her voice was unsettling, but the slight waver as she spoke was even more disturbing. It had to be from exhaustion.

"Good, good." _Christ_. _Put a sentence together, Jack._ When he heard a heavy sigh and several exhausted, deep breaths, a faint tinge of guilt spiked in his veins. "Although EDI is helpful," he said calmly, "you should rely on your instincts as well."

"Wow. Could you be any less enthusiastic? We're ready to kick some more ass and that's all you can say?"

Though her voice held renewed energy, he wasn't sure the optimism was real. "Shepard, don't be so cocky."

"Don't worry about us."

"I am not worried at all. I know you'll succeed. After all, you were built for victory." Of course she didn't respond to that, not even a wise crack. His lighter flared as he brought it up to a cigarette. "Meaning that I have every confidence that the woman, the _Commander_ I know, will do everything in her power to achieve the goal. _Our_ goal."

"Backpedal all you want, asshole. I know what you meant."

She did know him well, which was her way with everyone, but he was feeling far too much like an open book at that moment. He shook off the sentiment with a brusque wave of his hand. It was the final push, the last battle to be rid the Collectors and their base. Then every resource Cerberus had would study the base and gather enough intel to use the Reapers' weapons against their own kind.

A small smile came to his lips. Jesus, he was almost dizzy with anticipation. But Rebecca needed a boost, a pep talk to keep her mind from straying toward heroic antics and future celebrations, or some other places her mind had often traveled to, places he couldn't think about just then.

Jack took another long drag from his cigarette. "We're almost there, Rebecca. One more offensive and the Collectors will be annihilated. Except for the loss of Kasumi, you've come this far relatively unscathed, but it is not over yet. Stay focused and strong. In control. Keep your team on point and push yourself to finish this swiftly. Take that damned thing down with everything you've got. The galaxy is counting on you, Rebecca. I'm counting on you."

"I don't need a pep talk, Jack, and you can stop worrying too. And pontificating at me, or for me, or whatever the hell it is you're doing."

"What I do, I do for you, Rebecca, on your behalf, given your penchant for repression."

"Take your analyses and shove it. And then get yourself a drink." Her tone was equally defiant and sarcastic. He heard some labored breathing , and a muffled curse made to sound good-humored. "Listen, Jack. I need you to do me a favor and cut your comm while we do this. As soon as we destroy it, I'll get back to you."

"I can't do that, Commander."

"Yes, you can, Illusive Man." He heard her take another deep breath and blow it out. He swore he heard a nervous sort of groan too. "Please, Jack. I don't ask much of you."

True enough. Put that way, how could he say no? How could he refuse her anything right then, given what she was about to accomplish? "All right, I'll stop our communications. Good luck." Without another word, he cut the connection.

Jack tapped at the console and paged his assistant. "Jana, please have Nikki bring me your operative assignments for the week. And a drink."

"Right away, Sir."

Waiting came easy enough to Jack, but not this time. This time, he was concerned. He stood up and rolled his head to one side, cursing how the unease stung his eyes, while his neck cracked like a dry branch. He checked on Shepard's crew mates who had been rescued, making it back to the Normandy, thanks to Jacob's escort. Jack had balked when Rebecca ordered Jacob to get them back safely, telling her every man was needed on the base, but she'd ignored him. He didn't scold her, having given her free rein all along. Pulling rank would clearly be an enormous mistake.

As he rubbed his temples, Nikki flounced into the room and handed him a bourbon, neat, and a datapad.

"Do you need anything else, Sir?" She danced around him, careful not to scuff his shoes, and began kneading his shoulders, her fingers knowing exactly where to go. "You're very tense, you know. I can feel all kinds of knots," she whispered. "Maybe I can help you relax, like last time."

He arched a brow, instantly regretting his encounters with her. "Another time, Nikki."

"You said that last week, too. Did I do something wrong?"

The sweet innocence in her voice almost made him laugh. What could this beautiful young woman lavishing attention on him possibly do wrong? The things she did with her tongue alone… but she wasn't too bright, barely knowledgeable about politics or "those creepy aliens" he talked about so much. Cosmetics and lingerie were more her speed. Why was he keeping her on his staff anyway?

"Don't take it personally, Nikki," he said. "Now if you wouldn't mind…?" Jack motioned toward the door, shooing her away as she pouted.

He shifted in his chair, again. _Damn it, when will it be over?_ He was itching to know what was happening, if the base was secure. And where they were, if any of them were injured or dead — if she was…. _Damn it_. No, he wouldn't voice his concerns about her. He wouldn't think about her at all, not even in the abstract. He busied himself with the funding of new projects as best he could.

Countless minutes went by, almost an hour in all probability. His fingers tapped the edge of his console, just light enough to keep any signal from transmitting. With a sleight of his hand, the connection could be made. But he wouldn't be the one to make that move. He'd wait and sip his drink, like a man watching the sun set on his porch.

When she finally called in, her voice was like a caress, soothing away the tension. But the pressure on his chest didn't lighten quickly. It was still far too heavy for him to breathe a word.

~TBC~

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long delay in posting. The next chapter is nearly done. Posting it shouldn't take too long. Thanks for sticking with me and all my slow updates.


	5. Running on Empty

"And here we are."

Kneeling at the command center, Rebecca punched in a code on her omni-tool to reach the Illusive Man, a code no one else knew.

"We did it," she said, as his image came into view. "It's dead… well, as dead as something like that can be. I told the ground team to head to the Normandy. Are we good to go?"

Jack stared, silent, while her fingers tapped on the terminal, itching to reprogram the base's systems to overload. His quietness surprised her, mainly because of his obsessive need to offer praise or criticism immediately, no matter the size of the job or the risk involved.

"Can you see me? I'd like to get the hell out of here now." A mix of emotions bubbled to the surface. She grew angrier waiting, and if she were honest, she wanted to hear him say how relieved he was that she was safe. "What's going on, Jack?"

"Shepard. You've done the impossible." A faint quiver tinged his voice, the opposite of the eager and impatient tone he'd always had after a mission.

"I didn't do it alone. And Kasumi gave her life for this mission."

The Illusive Man bowed his head. "I know. Her sacrifice will not be forgotten. But don't be modest. You bore the burden of command."

She shrugged off the compliment. "I can't wait to blow this place sky-high."

"No. I have a better option. We can use it, Shepard. I've reviewed the schematics EDI uploaded. A timed radiation pulse will kill the remaining Collectors, but leave the machinery and technology intact," he said. "This is exactly what we need to get an edge on them."

Rebecca frowned and peered at the defunct human-reaper. "It's Reaper tech and it's dangerous. This thing almost killed us all, Jack. Not to mention the atrocities that took place here."

"What's done is done. We can learn their secrets, Shepard, their means of communication, how they think, if they feel." The strength of his voice increased with every sentence, each more demanding than the last. "The Reapers were working directly with the Collectors. They were _building_ a Reaper. That knowledge, that framework, could save us all. This base is a gift. Don't be shortsighted."

Thane spoke up, intense as always. "I've dedicated my life to killing those who deserve death, Shepard. Why should we become what we've hated all along?"

"Krios could never understand what's at stake for humanity," Jack said. "He's not like you, and he has no idea what you've seen, with Saren and Sovereign, Qian's research, or on Mindoir."

"I hear you, Jack. But no one should be exposed to all this. It… it feels like it's pulsing, like a jellyfish ready to sting. I don't like it. It reminds me of the Prothean beacons."

"That is precisely why we need it, Shepard. Think of the knowledge we could acquire."

"It's a big risk to take," she said hesitantly. "We don't know enough about indoctrination to rule out the possibility of this tech triggering it, and then where would we be? We've already uploaded more data from this base than I thought we'd recover. Maybe that's enough."

"It's never enough. Moreover, anything of value was no doubt scrubbed before you set foot in there. With the entire base at our disposal, we can crush the enemy, beat them at their own game, turn their own resources against them."

Frustrated, with too many choices confronting her, she succumbed to a moment of silence. With creased brows, she looked at the Drell, secretly hoping he would have some philosophical debate to delay her decision.

The Drell remained calm, but she knew him well, noticing the way his eyes blinked three times when he had a strong opinion. "Please, Shepard. Your choice will have an impact for generations to come."

"Rebecca, we are at war," Jack said. "Humanity is under attack. We need every resource at our disposal to win this. Some things are beyond our moral or ethical code. They are simply necessary for our survival."

"Krios, I appreciate your insight," she said with a false smile, "but this base could be our way out, our answer to this entire mess. The research alone can open the doors to untold amounts of technology. How can I ignore that?"

"You _can't_ ignore it, Commander," Jack said. "The future of humankind is at stake. _Our_ future is at stake."

"Do you do this for humanity, or for _him_?" the Drell asked.

"Damn it, don't question me! I'm doing this for all of us. We need this intel. Don't you see that?"

"What I see is a man being made into a giant. It is not right, Shepard."

"Enough of your honorable advice, Krios. _I'm_ making the decisions here, not you."

"Shepard, think hard on this decision." Vakarian's voice cracked as he spoke, rising to challenge her. "I think we need to step back and-"

"Just shut up already!"

"Do not discard this facility," Jack said. "My goal, and yours, has always been to save humanity from the Reapers. At any cost. Imagine how many lives can be saved if we use this knowledge to thwart the Reapers!"

They were coming at her from all directions. There was passion behind their beliefs, but not enough supported facts. Whose conviction was a result of detached analyses, years of intel, and countless credits spent to monitor the Reapers? Not even the Alliance had Jack's track record. His mercenary experiences chasing Desolas and the Reaper artifact made him an expert decades ago. And in all those years, with the knowledge they'd acquired thanks to her, and Jack, the Alliance still refused to act. The answer was clear.

"Fuck this." She popped in the disk and punched the coding, set to purge. "We need this base, and none of you were hired to give an opinion. The Illusive Man is right." She involuntarily winced as she said his moniker, sure that she came across as weak, but time was wasting. She'd handle the crew later.

"You're making the right choice, Shepard."

Jack's reassurance helped a little, but a niggling voice in her head had questions with answers only the future held.

"Ten minutes until the radioactive pulse," EDI said as Shepard rose to leave.

"Okay. Run, everyone. Get to the Normandy and don't look back!"

Before they could leap to their feet and sprint, the Human-Reaper came alive. It reared like a stallion and pawed at them, but its armor had significantly deteriorated, working in their favor.

"It's weak. Aim for the vulnerable spots!"

A hail of ammunition flew to the Human-Reaper, glass flying everywhere as they shot at its tubes filled with genetic material. With its armor destabilized, it didn't take long before they took it down. Seeker Swarms and Collectors appeared quickly, coming from the east and west.

They had only minutes before the radioactive pulse fired. Shepard took off with lengthened strides and ran like a hunted a deer toward the Normandy, her tendons stretched to the maximum, her lungs burning as they got closer to the ship. Explosions created barriers to jump over and around, pushing her physical limits to the extreme.

She didn't look back, didn't want to see if the others were still there, and whether it was real or imagined, the voice of the Harbinger rang through the exhausted fog taking over her mind.

"You are arrogant, Shepard. You have merely delayed the inevitable."

A prophetic commentary and a grave threat rolled into one.

"You've escaped us before, but never again. You _will_ face your annihilation."

"I _will_ defeat you, Harbinger, even if I have to die trying." Not sure if she spoke aloud or not, she kept sprinting, and with one last leap of faith, she was onboard the Normandy, with Krios and Vakarian just behind her. Joker pulled her in and released her to safety before he ran for the bridge.

She couldn't speak as she helped the others board, but the burning rage in her veins was loud and clear.

_We will put an end to your control. Me. Jack. All of humanity._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be much longer, and will have lots of R&R time, and then some. ;) I wanted to get this action posted because the next chapter is all about Rebecca and Jack and their time together before the inevitable house arrest in Vancouver. It was just getting too long with this bit in it.


	6. Follow You, Follow Me

The Citadel was the third stop on the circuitous route to meet Jack, for her safety he'd said. While she appreciated the gesture, anyone ballsy enough to follow her would be more of a nuisance than a threat—though fighting in heels and the sexy new dress he'd sent her would pose some challenges. As it was, the restless sleep she'd had every night since returning from Aite left her irritable. Project Overlord affected her far more than most atrocities she'd seen over the years. _Jack better have some answers._

"Rebecca. I'm glad you're looking so well. An eventless trip?" Jack startled her as she got off a shuttle on the Citadel, but the warmth in his voice disarmed her attempt to give a snappish response.

"Hi. Yeah, a pretty boring trip overall. I'm just happy to hear your voice right now." And it was good to hear him calling her by name and not the more formal 'Shepard' or 'Commander.' But she had no idea if he was on the Citadel or not. "So where should I head to?"

"Follow the Asari with the nice ass."

"You're joking," she said, negotiating the crowd on Presidium's retail floor. "They all have nice asses."

"Follow the one in the purple dress with white stripes. She has a reddish marking on the back of her head that looks like a strawberry."

She did a quick scan and found the Asari, who was heading toward the transportation hub. "I see her. And it looks like… a heart. Aww. That's sweet, Jack."

He grumbled something, trying to hide his amusement no doubt. "I knew the dress would suit you, by the way."

She looked around the area for any sign of him, foolish as the effort was. "I guess you didn't want to see me in that little black number again. Thanks for sending it to me. It's…." She looked down at the provocative dress, with its sheer material and straight lines. It was far more revealing than she was used to, which added to her impatience to find him. "It makes a bold statement."

"As does the woman wearing it. But as much as I like seeing you in that dress, I think I'm going to enjoy watching you take it off for me even more."

"So I can put on a tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants?"

"That's hardly what I had in mind. Though when you do undress, I might have you fix me a drink in the nude."

"Maybe your Asari with the nice ass wants to set you up with a drink."

"She is not _my_ Asari. Just a temporary assistant whom I'll never use again."

"And how exactly did you use her?"

"Careful, Rebecca. Jealousy is such an unattractive quality."

"But it's totally a turn on when my lover is jealous of another man." She smiled as she followed the Asari down a hallway.

"Then I assume you haven't been turned on in recent weeks."

"Can't you even throw me a bone, Jack?"

"Later. If you behave."

"You're no fun," she said, eyeing his assistant, who now seemed peeved that Rebecca was right on her heels.

The Asari led her to a taxi stand, where the she discreetly exchanged credits with the driver and took control of the cab. "Please board and make yourself comfortable, Commander. We will arrive in one hour."

The shuttle took off into the darkened skies, heading southeast. To Boltzmann, maybe?

"And our destination would be…?"

The Asari remained silent, but Jack's voice echoed over the speaker. "You'll see soon enough, though I imagine you may have an idea already. I'll see you in a little while."

"Come on, Jack. Where the hell am I going? Boltzmann?" Silence. "Beckenstein?" More silence. "Fucker. I bet it's Hock's place."

Rebecca settled in, stretching her legs out, her toes pointing and flexing. She couldn't wait to feel his arms wrap around her, to drink in the scent of him, the strength of him... Had he missed her in the last few weeks? She missed seeing him. Or maybe she just missed the sex. Hell, she missed everything, the debates until morning, the aroma of bourbon and aftershave, the steamy showers, the way he twirled her hair around his pinky. She missed it all so much that she thought her only hope for future sanity might be to hijack the shuttle and fly off in the opposite direction.

Thinking about him was just plain exhausting at times. She reached down to her feet and rubbed them. A nap sounded like an excellent idea, though her nerves jangled with anxiety, or excitement. Both really. She hadn't seen him in weeks, hadn't discussed Archer, or Hackett. Her brain was moving forward, backward, and sideways with questions, putting her on edge, and for what? The second she saw him he'd surely put her mind at ease about everything bothering her. Resting her head, she tried to relax, imagining what the next few days would bring.

In the gray moments of sleep, she felt the shuttle take a dip. Beckenstein's rocky cliffs and blue waters came into view, punctuated by its small, yet elegant skyline.

"I knew it!" she said, as if she had won a contest.

Beckenstein was beautiful, even if every billionaire smuggler, spy, and corporate criminal in the galaxy called it home. New-money tycoons flocked there, the types she detested, the ones who had no appreciation for the hardworking "have-nots" or the lawmen or the soldiers keeping their children safe at night. But she wasn't going to socialize with people on this trip. _Just me and Jack_.

She immediately recognized Hock's estate as the shuttle landed. It was a bittersweet return. Kasumi had died on the Collector Base mission, shot through the head. She and Rebecca had gone to Hock's party only a couple of months earlier. They had fun together, mainly because Kasumi was the bohemian "yin" to her conservative '"yang." She missed that now and smiled at the memory of her friend, one of the few friends she'd made since her recovery. Another loss to bear.

After landing, the Asari led her into the house. "This way, Commander." She gestured toward specific locations inside, explaining where Rebecca could venture if she were curious. "By the way, my name is Elana."

"And please, call me Rebecca. I'm on vacation, you know. Practically a civilian."

Elana nodded politely, but Rebecca was sure she would never call her anything but "Commander" at Jack's orders.

The place had changed since she'd last seen it with Kasumi. There was more tech now, less open space leading outside. Not surprising given Jack's need for privacy.

Elana opened the darkened doors leading to the patio. "If you wish, you may make yourself comfortable outside. There is an auto-bar for drinks, and some of your favorite foods are on the table."

"Thanks. So where is he?"

"The Illusive Man will be with you shortly, Commander."

"Shortly? Pfft."

Elana respectfully declined commentary and walked away.

"Working hard, no doubt." Disappointed, she headed outside hoping the relaxing view of the water would perk up her spirits. A table with fruits and cheeses, all arranged with care, caught her eye. "I didn't come here to sit around and eat while he works," she muttered. "Although… I _am_ pretty hungry," she admitted, and stabbed at large chunk of cheese with the ferocity of a Krogan.

* * *

Jack watched her as she checked out the house, relishing the smile she wore upon seeing the lavish spread of food he'd arranged. She would never guess he'd cut up her most loved fruits and cheeses and positioned them on platters with the skill of a high-class caterer. He was particularly proud of the pyramid made from slices of bananas, kiwifruit, and strawberries, all done without toothpicks. It was a relaxing pastime, not at all like a puzzle but perfectly straightforward in its simplicity.

"And the investment in Photocon Systems has taken off, Sir. By this time next month your profits will be tripled."

Jack sipped his drink, half-listening to the accountant rattle off his net-worth. Another tedious monthly task, but necessary.

Two more calls and he'd be done, and then he'd find out how much blame Rebecca laid at his feet. Forcing Archer to get results had bit him in the ass. Damn Gavin, he thought. He couldn't keep the assigned task of communicating with the Geth from getting out of control. He should have known the scientist wouldn't stay in line. As a result, he'd have to handle the conversation with her carefully, logically, appealing to her sense of loyalty.

Even though she'd ask him not to, Jack had spied on her as she tossed and turned every night after returning from Aite, so upset at seeing David as a test-subject. Tormented was really the better word, and it bothered him to think she believed he was to blame, at least partly. But he hadn't known, hadn't realized exactly what Archer was putting his brother through. And he hadn't wanted to know either. Communicating with the Geth was all he wanted, and in that regard, Project Overlord was a minor success.

But he should have sent another operative to do the job, someone more callous, with less heart. Leng would have been a better choice, but his loyalty was still unproven. All along he and Rebecca had a mutually beneficial relationship, a balance of power. Now he was at the disadvantage, and he'd have to account for his oversight, and then make it up to her, once he explained away her concerns. He'd prove to her that she was acting on his behalf, because he trusted her implicitly, and her rescuing of David should dispel any guilt she held because David wasn't rescued quicker. That was plan anyway. The outcome of the conversation would lead to a spectacular vacation or a hostile parting of ways. And the latter was not an option.

He looked at the monitor again, admiring her shapely figure and striking features, the enticing sway of her hips. As she reached for some fruit, he stared at her slender hands with long fingers. He imagined them touching his cheek, the fire in her gaze sizzling, her lips greedy for his…. "Damn it!" The drink hit the wall and exploded, shattering glass in every direction. The sins of a reckless scientist could cost him the one thing that kept him grounded. And sane. He couldn't lose her, not now.

"Come on, Jack. I'm bored!" Her voice brought him back to the moment. The smile she wore was broad and sincere, filled with hope for the moments they'd soon share. _Two more calls…_.

* * *

"Patience, Rebecca."

She spun around expecting to see him with a bullhorn. "Jesus! You kept the PA system?"

"I was going to have it removed, but I think I like the sound of my voice echoing off the walls."

"Oh my God, Jack, could you be any more self-absorbed?" She dipped her head and smiled, enjoying the idea of his voice surrounding her, with its rich timber and commanding tone. "And, by the way, I didn't need an escort. You could have just told me where to meet you. It's not like I'm going to sell you out."

"After what happened with Archer I wasn't sure how you would feel about Cerberus, or me. Not to mention your-"

"Wait. Is anyone else here? Where is Elana?"

"Gone, for now. It's just you and me."

"Okay. Good." She popped some custard apple into her mouth, savoring the rare fruit. "Mmm, so soft and sweet. Where do you get this stuff from anyway? And I totally love the pyramid of fruit!" She plucked a few pieces from the mouthwatering structure, careful not to ruin it. "So you were mentioning my what?"

"I was going to mention that business with the Batarians, the little side-errand you graciously accepted for Admiral Hackett after the Collectors' Base. I'm sure he had a few well-chosen words for you when it was over."

"Yeah. More than a few. I'll tell you about that later though. And turn the goddamn volume down on the speakers." Her neck muscles tightened at the thought of that conversation with Hackett. _Try to do one nice thing for a friend_ …. "Anyway, you said you knew nothing about how far Archer had gone. I believed you. Was I wrong to believe you?"

"No. And just so you're aware, David is showing some signs of improvement."

"That's good, but you should send him to Grissom Academy. They have more experience with his type of condition than Cerberus."

"I also promised you that David will get excellent medical care with us, and his talents will also remain vital to our understanding of the Geth."

"Fuck the Geth. Don't you think he's been through enough?"

"Why the change of heart now? You kept our overall goals in mind on Aite, even under difficult moral circumstances. That's why I brought you on board in the first place, Rebecca."

"'In the first place'? Don't be an asshole." She stiffened at his insensitivity, making a mental note to remind him that he'd promised to keep comments like that to himself. "Besides, Grissom can take care of him better than Cerberus and you know it. They'll focus on his math abilities, and he can relax there and just… live his life."

She heard the tapping of fingers, and then a long exhale of breath.

"You won't do it, will you?" she asked, her blood beginning to simmer. "Cerberus doesn't need him, damn it. Why can't you-"

"You don't know me as well as you think you do. If you feel that strongly about it, I'll make arrangements to send him to Grissom."

Her jaw dropped. "What? You're kidding me." _Shit_. She shook her head, realizing she sounded obnoxiously skeptical. "You just surprised me, Jack. Like, stupefied me."

"Why so little faith? You may not always like my answers, but if you ask something of me, you may find I'm more like a genie in a bottle than an evil witch doctor."

"So all I have to do is rub?"

"Hmm. Easy there, tiger."

That made her laugh, almost giggle. "Seriously though, I think it'll make you feel better about that whole incident. Trust me, you won't regret it."

"You're probably right." She heard him blow out another long puff of smoke.

"Am I pissing you off or something, Jack?"

"No. A report just came in from Illium. One million of my credits have disappeared."

"Bet on any Skyball lately? I'd look into that first." She rolled her eyes. One million credits barely scratched the surface of his wealth.

"Actually, I was told your friend, Doctor T'Soni, had a hand in this."

"Liara? She doesn't need the money. Maybe it's payback time." She savored a piece of kiwi, following it with a shot of vodka. "You owe her anyway. It cost her everything to help save me. Leave it alone."

" _That_ I cannot promise. We'll see where the credits land before I contact her."

"Maybe you have a traitor in your organization." _Shit._ _What is Liara up to now?_ He would never hurt Liara, but he would try to cripple her business as Shadow Broker if she had done something underhanded, especially if affected his intel in regard to the Reapers. Rebecca hoped that wasn't the case, and she'd make sure by calling her friend after she left Beckenstein.

"As much as I enjoy all this banter, I have to get to these two calls. Go explore a little. Do you remember Hock's artistic tastes?"

"Unfortunately, I do." She went back inside and stood at the foot of the staircase, running her hand over the smooth, marble banister. "It was all so boring. Too modern for me. Not a single classic."

"Exactly. Pathetically uninspired. I've had the entire gallery overhauled."

"Oh yeah?" she said with a glimmer of delight in her eyes. "I think I'll check that out first."

"Good. Give me a little time and then we can take up where we left off a few weeks ago."

"Sounds good." Excitement built in her, tightening like a coil in her stomach. "Oh, and Jack…."

"Yes?"

"Spending this time with you is nice." She cringed, feeling a bright red flush creep to her cheeks. "I mean it was a _great_ idea to get away from the Normandy for a while."

A teasing laugh was his first answer. "I know what you meant. And your tempered enthusiasm is rather arousing. But I don't want you to hold back later, because I certainly won't. We have to make up for lost time."

The enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable and genuine, and it added to the surge of desire threatening to overtake her senses and make her search out every room for him.

"Don't use up all your best lines before you even see me," she said grinning. "I don't need smooth talk."

"No smooth talk here. I can promise you that we're going to fuck all night long, in every room, and then I'm going to fuck you some more just for good measure."

A shiver of raw arousal shot up her torso, and she sucked in an unsteady breath as she heard his slight chuckle. "I'm going to hold you to that." _Now, if I can only stop fidgeting…._

"You're clearly feeling restless and… unsatisfied."

 _Damn cameras_. "You think you still have what it takes after all this time?"

"What? A few weeks? You insult me, Rebecca. Just don't get off on my voice before I finish for the day."

"You're an egotistical jerk." _Not a very clever comeback_. He consistently managed to suck the wise-ass out of her with ease. That would bother her if it were anyone else, but she enjoyed his ability to throw her off in ways no one else could. To hear the humor in his voice, to see the breeziness in his mannerisms when they traded jabs, meant more to her than any compliment or gift he gave her because it meant they had a typical love affair when they were together, an ordinary relationship built around their extraordinary professional duties, just like other couples. _Except ours is punctuated by extreme violence and a considerable amount of corruption, with a side of deception._ She sighed. _Fuck, there's nothing normal about us._

Pessimism was unhealthy though, and she pushed it away, determined to forget everything from the last few weeks. She mentally listed all the annoying details of her life and placed them in a darkened corner of her mind: Her disbanding crew, all the people, places, and things that had no right to be in her heart anymore. Admiral Hackett's decree was at the top of her list. Eventually, she'd have to tell Jack that Hackett wanted her under house arrest in Vancouver because the fucking Batarians demanded it. Not that anybody other than Jack gave a shit that she'd closed off the Reapers' avenue to the rest of the galaxy, and for more than a few months. _Hell, Jack probably knows about it all anyway, so just forget it, Shepard_.

The load on her shoulders felt lighter already. _Amazing what a bit of personal psychotherapy can do._ She rounded the corner to the refurbished art gallery with a tingling that could only be described as a hunger, a fierce need to feel his hands on her, his skin on hers. To be that close to him, just as man and woman, two bodies twisting in a frantic heap of sweat and lust…. _Good god_. _I wonder if any of the art is erotic…._

But the paintings were not even remotely suggestive. They were exquisite though, alive with color and symbolism, passion and brilliance. Several antique masterpieces caught her eye, all of them mesmerizing, but a contoured encasement in a corner called to her.

At the end of a long wall of extraordinary portraits was an enclosed sword, a katana. And beneath the katana were seven virtues, listed on the scroll as something called, "The Bushido Code."

 _Rectitude_ : The power to decide upon a course of conduct in accordance with reason, without wavering; to die when to die is right, to strike when to strike is right.

 _Courage_ : Courage is worthy of being counted among virtues only if it's exercised in the cause of Righteousness.

 _Benevolence_ : A man invested with the power to command and the power to kill demonstrates equally extraordinary powers of benevolence and mercy.

 _Respect_ : By constant exercise in correct manners, one brings all the parts and faculties of his body into perfect order.

 _Honesty_ : Truth is black and white and sincerity lies within speaking from the heart with complete integrity of expression.

 _Honor_ : True men remain loyal to those to whom they are indebted.

 _Loyalty_ : The difference between good and bad and between right and wrong are givens, not arguments subject to discussion or justification, and a man should know the difference.

"'A man should know the difference,'" she whispered, sensing Jack as he walked toward her on light feet using the stealth skills he'd honed as a younger man. She remained motionless. "And does he?"

"You know I do, Rebecca."

She closed her eyes and smiled. The curve of sudden fingers on her hips had her gasp and twirl around. He nipped at her shoulder while she buried her hands in his hair.

"Jack. The katana…it's…."

"The Samurai were expected to be as capable of sparing life as they were of taking it away. They knew there was no compromise that can be justified in the end," he said, drawing back and staring into her eyes.

Excited as she was to see him, mixed emotions shadowed her eyes. "Like allowing Archer to continue his experiments?"

He heaved a sigh and looked away. "You can't let this go, can you? I told you I didn't know how far he had gone, but apparently you don't believe me."

"I just resent having to clean up your dirty work. You could have given me more information at the time too."

"What little I knew would have clouded your judgment," he said.

She stifled a twinge of doubt. "Archer told me you don't broker failure. He sounded _afraid_ of you."

"If he was afraid anything it was losing his position and status. Nothing he carried out there would have made it onto a professional dossier, would it?"

"No, I suppose not," she conceded. "But it was horrible to see what he'd done to his brother, the torture he put him through. It was inhuman." A chill made her voice unsteady. "I don't understand why no one on the base told you what was going on."

"I suspect they were either killed by the Geth once Archer lost control of David or they simply fled. Loyalty is hard to find, even within Cerberus." When she clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes, he tilted his head and his expression softened in a way only she understood. "You shouldn't feel guilty, Rebecca. Each one of us will ultimately have to live with our choices."

"Don't quote shit at me, Jack."

"Why are you so touchy today?" he asked, and then did the unthinkable. He tried to tickle her.

She leapt to the side, evading his touch. "Are you _insane_? The last person who tried to do that wound up with a broken wrist."

"Come on, Rebecca. I'm just trying to break you free of this funk."

"It's not a funk." There weren't too many decisions she'd made in the name of Cerberus that bothered her. Even letting him take the Collectors' Base made sense on several levels, but he wasn't going to get off easy this time. Not when visions of David's torture kept her up at night. "I hate when you evade the issue, Jack."

"I'm not evading the issue," he said. "It was a tragedy all around, one I wish we could have avoided."

Her jaw was still tight, but she regretted the next words before they rushed out of her mouth. "Why didn't you send someone else instead of me then? Why _me,_ Jack?"

"The way I saw it there were only two choices, two paths to take. One was easy, and its only reward was that it was easy. And like me, you've never taken the easy path."

"But _I_ didn't choose that particular path to walk. You chose it for me."

"Yes, I did. Like every other road you've traveled in the last year. I didn't know what you'd find, but I trusted you to do what was in the best interest of both Cerberus and David. And you did."

"After all this time you still feel the need to pull my strings like I'm your damn puppet?" she said, struggling to sound calm although her heart rate had increased.

"No. Nothing could be further from the truth. I allowed you to make the decision because I knew you'd weigh the options and make the best choice, as I would. Honestly, you're the only person I trust enough to make the hard calls."

"Yeah, so you've said."

"You should have told me how much this bothered you before now" he said. "We could have hashed it out and put it behind us already."

"Oh, so sorry to ruin your day."

"This is not about me," he insisted. "I'm trying to help you understand your feelings, to process them and move on."

"Well then thanks, Doctor Feelgood," she said while rolling her eyes dramatically. "I don't know what I would do without you as my personal shrink."

"I see there's no winning this argument." His whole face tightened. It wasn't the look of someone who was merely annoyed either. It was more of a "we need to stop before this gets uglier" look. He was tired of arguing and having to defend himself, a position she was also familiar with, and it would piss her off too.

"I just want some closure, you know? If I had gotten there sooner or you had figured out what was going on… Damn it, I know it's over with, but I can't help it."

"I understand." He took her hand, his piercing blue eyes boring into her with all the sincerity he could muster. "Take your time. Process what I've said and then decide for yourself if you can trust what I'm saying."

Why was he being so acquiescent? Searching his eyes rarely offered much information when it came to honesty. Only when he was at his least guarded, when they were intimate together, did she ever read him well. So she looked for other signs, like whether he rubbed his brow and squinted. He would shrug ever so slightly if she caught him lying or skirting an issue, and often there was a tell in his lies of omission too, like being overly verbose when a short answer would suffice. None of those traits were on display.

She'd done the calculations, trusting her judgment, and so she backed off, 99.9 percent sure he was telling the truth. "Okay, I believe what you're saying. But I will never take any shit like this lying down again."

"Of course, and I expect nothing less, Rebecca. You truly were acting as an extension of me."

She remained silent, keeping the pissed off look on her face just to drive it home. That is until he said, "Did you know that the fish in your tank only have a five second memory?"

Her brows drew together, but she couldn't suppress a little smile. And when he offered a random question, asking, "If you were a vegetable, what vegetable would you be?" she laughed out loud.

"You're killing me, Jack. I love when you get all weird on me once every six months. I'd be a rutabaga, just because it's a fun word to say."

"I'd be a carrot," he said with exaggerated pride.

"Rooted in your strong beliefs, hm?"

He wanted to lighten the mood and move on, and she couldn't fault him for it. She, too, had looked forward to this time together for weeks, so why ruin it with a stupid argument? "Fine. I'm done. If that's the truth, then… that's the truth. I accept it."

His sour mood had lifted, replaced with a boyish grin that softened her heart and melted what little anger she had left.

"Maybe we should start over," she said. "I've missed you, Jack."

"It has been a long few weeks, hasn't it?" When his eyes locked onto hers and he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, she yielded and pressed against him.

"It really has. And I'm sorry we got off on the wrong-"

"Starting. Over." His lips covered hers, lightly at first, but the minute his arms tightened around her waist, she started sinking. Heat shot through her, scorching her from the inside out. He deepened the kiss and molded her against his body, pouring all his feelings, the pent-up passion, into that single kiss, lingering over her mouth as though it held him captive.

Breathless, she pulled back a bit. "Good to see you too."

Maybe it was her imagination, but she suddenly felt exposed, like somehow she was an open book, except it wasn't her thoughts that were on display, but her body. She glanced down, noticing that the strips of material her dress was made of seemed to be… disintegrating? Disappearing?

That was the moment he gazed down too, and with a salacious grin.

"This dress is amusing you, is it?" she asked, feeling a chill as if she wasn't wearing a shirt. Again she looked down and the white strips of material were turning translucent.

"I do like what I see." His fingers ran along her jaw, brushed over her cheek, and settled on her mouth. He traced her lips with two fingers, teasing until they parted. "I chose the 'Intimacy White' made of opaque e-foils. Your… personal interactions determine the dress' level of transparency."

"You chose _what_?"

Beads of cold sweat broke out on her forehead as he ran his hand down the column of her neck, over the swell of a breast, to the silken skin of her midriff, turning her on with every intimate touch. Embarrassment and fury battled with desire.

"When your body gets excited and your heart races, the coils turn transparent," he said smoothly. "By the looks of it, the dress will be as clear as glass shortly."

She saw the contours of her shape, the outline of her breasts, the bareness of her…. The dress was almost completely clear, and the most obvious sight were her nipples standing at attention. "What the hell, Jack?"

"The black one was even more revealing." He grew serious and whispered against her ear. "I want you, Rebecca. It's all I can do not to take you right here."

Caught off guard before, she wasn't feeling at all modest now. His persuasive voice and gentle touch, the warmth of his breath on her skin, made her feel protected, wanted. Cherished.

"That was dirty trick to play, Jack. What if I'd gotten hot out there in public? I'd be mortified."

"Body heat alone wouldn't have done this," he said, gesturing at the dress. "It was my touch that turned you on, and the material simply reacted to your arousal. I _was_ hoping to have you wear it out to dinner, but now that I've seen what I've seen, I think not."

"Damn straight. I'd kick your ass if you did that to me."

"Of course," he said, with a wry smile. "It wouldn't do to have your reputation as a respected commander tarnished by a tasteless display of public nudity."

"Is that supposed to be sweet talk, Jack? Because if it is, it's pathetic."

Another laugh, this one deadpan, as if he were growing exasperated. "In truth, I didn't want to share this view with anyone."

"Well, you _are_ the most selfish man I know." The slight jab was cancelled out by the affection in her voice.

Jack's hand went to her cheek, his gaze startling her with its tenderness. "I recall a night not so long ago when you told me what I meant to you, for your own sanity, you said. I believe you also said 'I'm yours' or something similar."

"And you said you'd let me have you, _all_ of you, so where does that leave us? Equal ownership, I think."

He nodded. "Very well. That's fair."

"Smart man." She looked at him with a grin, followed by a wink. The heels he'd bought to go with the dress went flying across the room before she sprinted for the balcony.

A cluster of screeching seagulls circled above as she raised herself up and perched on the railing, her legs dangling off. The sunlight was fading fast, and the colors of twilight shrouded the balcony in shadowy hues of blue and purple, wrapping them in that moment when day and night become one. Relaxation finally came to her then. Her eyes drifted closed and she let her head fall back, inhaling the scent of salt spray carried on the breeze.

"Can't keep up?" she taunted, hearing him stroll toward her. She slipped of the edge and leaned against it. "You need to get your ass off that chair more often."

He approached her with a swaggering air of confidence, and she loved the hunger in his eyes, growing stronger as he closed in. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against the hard length of his body while her hands slid up his back. She rested her head on his shoulder and let out a soft sigh. They held each other in silence, his fingers stroking her hair and neck with the intimate touches she had come to expect, until his lips found a spot just below her ear that turned her bones to jelly.

Just for an instant, he pulled away and searched her eyes. She felt the strength of his need as he covered her lips with his, the kiss quickly turning carnal before he let go, though he kept her pinned.

"You and I have to get one thing straight, Rebecca."

She wanted to tug away, to regain control, but the scent of his skin wafted over her, making her head spin with temptation.

"You can't beat me," he whispered against her ear. "Ever." As her breath hitched with expectation, he lifted her up and placed her back on the rail, but did not release her from his firm grip.

She wriggled, arching and straining as a hand moved over the front of her dress, cupping her breast and then stroking her stomach. He lifted the skirt of the dress to trace his hand up her bare leg, ripping off the black lace thong and tossing it over the balcony.

His hands settled on her hips, steadying her, and he urged her closer. "Spread your legs," he said, his voice taut with restraint. "And look at me. I want to see what you're feeling."

She did, but only to a degree. She felt foolish and was about to say so until she realized that he'd let go of her to probe and explore. "Don't tease," she gasped as she grabbed the rails for balance. "I might fall off."

A small smile tilted up the corner of his mouth. "I won't let that happen."

She trembled as he arranged her legs over his shoulders, her eyes closing as his tongue lapped at her, desire unfolding like a blossoming flower. He pleasured her until he found the perfect spot, hot breath on her skin as he pushed deeper with his tongue. Waves of ecstasy rushed over her and lust thundered in her ears. She fisted her hands in his hair and bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

He pulled away and stood up with a challenge in his eyes and an obvious hint of amusement. "I know what you're thinking but I want to hear it."

She wanted him, wanted his body, wanted more than his body. Urgently. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, I think you do. In fact, I _know_ you do." Two fingers plunged into her without warning.

She let out a whimpering cry and pushed at the solidness of his chest. He didn't move at all. "Screw you, Jack."

"You're sending very mixed signals, Rebecca." He inched closer, and now he could kiss her again. But she was not prepared for him to seize her by the waist and kiss her with a fervor that left her lips tingling.

"I want you," she whispered.

"And?" He teased her, touching his lips to her brow, her eyelids and cheekbones, nibbling at her earlobe before finding her mouth at last. Even then he withheld what she wanted, tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue. "Tell me what you want or I'm going to stop." He stilled his fingers again.

"I want you _now_." She barely spoke above a whisper, but her plea was undeniable.

"Better." He withdrew his touch slowly, and she shivered. "But say it like you mean it. Say it with _conviction_."

Her heart pounded in her chest and she sucked in a deep breath. "I want you. Make love to me like the world's going to end," she demanded of him, knowing that she'd never wanted anything more.

His fingers, deft with urgency, undid his trouser buttons and he kicked away his pants. He held her steady, pulling up her leg before thrusting into her. She cried out as he plunged deeper into her, every muscle coming alive and straining to keep her in place. His strong arm at her lower back kept her secure, but it wasn't an easy position for either of them.

He scooped her up, placing her legs around his hips, and carried her toward a low table. With a quick swipe of his arm, he cleared the tabletop and laid her down, spreading her legs wide so he could feast his eyes on her. His gaze roamed up to her face, and his expression softened.

"I've missed this," he said, and the grin was gone. "I've missed you." He breathed deeply and pulled her to him, holding on tightly.

She made an inarticulate, but sweet, sound in reply. His mouth found hers again, and he moved over her, the weight of his body pressing on her, hard and powerful, like tempered steel.

She clung to him as they moved in rhythm, unhurried, almost gentle. As the heat rose between them, she felt liquid in his arms, but her mouth still nibbled at his throat, peppering soft kisses as she strained against him, her body aching for release as he drew out every moment of pleasure. Her whole world was now centered on this moment, this man, with his clever hands and demanding tongue.

Then she heard his sharp intake of breath. Her muscles clenched as he drove into her harder, and she gave herself over to his touch, gasping with each thrust. His hands beneath her lifted her so that she was angled to his satisfaction, and then he looked into her eyes, eyes that pleaded with him not to fear his emotions.

"I feel you, Rebecca, even when you're not with me."

She saw his love for her then, magnetic and bone-melting, as intense as the depth of his personality, and it made her tremble with ecstasy. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled his head down so her lips could taste his love, pure and strong, and it radiated through her, more fierce and demanding than she'd ever experienced with him.

He gripped her as they rocked together, and she clawed at him, desperate, exhilarated, and utterly consumed by a torrent of sensations. He held her as she came undone, bucking against him with waves of pure ecstasy racing through her. Their gazes locked and he urged her hips into a rhythm, until his own strokes sped him to an explosive release. But he didn't move or withdraw, almost as if the connection they'd shared would be too unbearable to break.

When he finally pulled away with a contented hum, she whimpered in protest. He stood in place though, pulling her up and holding her against his chest for a long moment.

"Don't move," he whispered. "I want to look at you."

He watched her with such intensity, it was impossible to hold his gaze. When her chin dropped, he lifted it, and she saw his expression transform to something indefinable, hovering between tenderness and torment.

"Your eyes give you away, Rebecca. They never hide what you're thinking when you're with me."

"Because I'm not _trying_ to hide anything from you."

"I realize that now," he said, collecting his thoughts as his fingers trailed across her cheek. "You've let me see into your heart and mind countless times, and I wanted you to see the same, so you'd know why-"

"I _do_ know," she said, cutting him off. "I know more than you can imagine." She couldn't let him reveal anything, not while the bond they shared had just crossed a threshold that seemed impassable before. Not now and maybe not ever. But she hesitated before speaking again, aware of what her next words would mean to him. She would be taking an irrevocable step in a direction she had not planned to go in that night.

"I know the good you've done and I know the sins you've committed. Maybe not all of them, but enough of them, and I've never judged you because you've never given me a reason to. I know circumstances have changed you, but they don't define you, not unless you let them." She slipped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer, offering reassurance in her embrace. "I know how much you sacrifice, giving up a part of yourself for your beliefs every single day. And I know how deeply you feel, how passionate you are about everything that's important to you, and I know that includes me. You asked me 'why so little faith' before. The truth is I _do_ have faith in you, maybe more than you have in me, and I hope that never changes."

Was that a smile he was trying to suppress? He wasn't saying anything either. Did she go too far, say too much? _Well, he started this whole damn tangent._

Before she could voice her thoughts, he picked her up and carried her inside toward a bedroom. His lips continued to meld with hers, holding her tightly against him until she fell out of his arms and back onto a bed with a laugh, her hair splaying across a pillow. He sat next to her, seeking out a curl and twirling it around his finger.

"Would you like to get ready for dinner now?"

"Well, so much for the afterglow," she teased as she took his hand, noticing a quiet reserve about him. He'd let her in, revealing a part of himself she'd never been allowed to see, and although it thrilled her, she wouldn't press him for more. "Maybe we could just talk a little before getting dressed."

"What would you like to discuss?"

"Nothing too cerebral. But not the weather either."

"All right. Give me a mainstream topic then."

But she couldn't. Every subject she'd thought of would lead to one place. Vancouver. How could she leave him now, after what they'd just shared? She'd be in solitary for months, unable to communicate with him, to see him, to hear his voice. Her sight faded as if she were in a tunnel, her pulse pounding with dread, but she reined it in. Deep inside those dark thoughts she found the strength, the control that had kept her alive all these years. Though she didn't mean to sigh so loudly when she came back to reality.

"Perhaps you should just get it off your chest," he said.

"Get what off my chest?"

"Hackett. The condemning things he said to you." He gently touched her face in the dim lighting, following its outline with his finger. "Vancouver."

She looked at him, knowing he'd read her thoughts, but appreciating the guarded concern in his eyes.

"I figured you'd heard about it all already."

"Only that he wants you to turn yourself in." His slight shudder did not go unnoticed by her, which only served to make the conversation harder.

She pulled away and moved to throw her arms over her eyes, but he caught her hands and drew them away from her face, not allowing the self-conscious act. The strength inherent in those hands, and the gentleness, relieved her apprehension.

"Kenson sedated me for two days. Two freaking days! I only had an hour to stop the Reapers once I woke up. I had no choice but to destroy the relay." She gazed beyond his shoulder for a moment. "I did Hackett a favor, and I really thought he'd smooth it over for me. But he can't, or won't. The Batarians want blood and the Alliance doesn't want a war with them. So I'm taking the fall for that _favor_."

"We're already at war and Humanity _is_ under attack. You did the right thing."

She went on, ignoring the comforting hand on her shoulder. "He even suggested the Normandy belongs to the Alliance, basically telling me that I've never left them. He questioned my honor too, the bastard."

"He was out of line," he said. "You are the most principled person I know."

The compliment caught her off guard, adding to her bewilderment. She jumped off the bed, her arms flailing as she continued. "He told me to do whatever I had to, but when Earth called, I'd have to get there with my dress blues on, ready to take the hit. I almost threw up. Those fuckers should be thanking me!"

"Agreed. I know you have no love for the Batarians, but you would have warned them if you'd had the time." Jack went to her, taking her in his arms, trying to soothe away the anguish. "But it's all over now. Put it behind you."

"I can't," she said, and pushed him away.

"Rebecca, you can stay with Cerberus. With me. You don't have to return to the Alliance. With the Reaper threat as it stands, all bets are off. They abandoned you before, left you for dead, and they'll do it again."

"Don't you think I've thought of that? But I can't do it. I can't throw away everything I've done with the Alliance." She stared at herself in the mirror, noticing that her scars were flaring up again. _No surprise_. "They rescued me when I was a sixteen, you know. Saved my life."

His lips thinned. "So did I." But the scowl dissolved, leaving only hurt behind, and she felt it like a knife in her gut.

"I'm sorry, Jack, I know you did. But it wasn't personal for you at the time. It may be now, but it wasn't then." A small amount of resentment swept through her. How could he compare saving her for the purpose of fighting the Reapers with what the Alliance did for her when she was a teenager? "The Alliance gave me direction and purpose. They gave me the kind of life a kid dreams of. If that patrol hadn't come by… I won't dodge my responsibilities to them."

He lit a cigarette and watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling. "I respect your decision, though I disagree with your rationale."

Her eyes grew wide with an idea, a questionable idea, but one she had to propose. "Why not have Cerberus join forces with the Alliance? Hackett was impressed with what Cerberus has done to stop the Reapers so far. I'm sure he'd be cooperative."

"Of course he would. We're light-years ahead of them in terms of technology alone." He grew animated, and if there was a box around, she was sure he'd consider jumping on top of it. "You destroyed Sovereign. You _killed_ a Reaper, and now all of Humanity is in the Reapers' sights. How the Alliance can ignore this threat is inconceivable to me. They've never seen beyond the microcosm they've built, no forward thinkers to be found anywhere in that organization."

"That's just the perception because they answer to the Council, but there _are_ incredibly talented people in the Alliance, scientists and leaders who _do_ understand the Reaper threat. They're just held back for now, like I was."

"And that's why they need you now, their obedient hero, not only because you know more about Reapers than any of them, but because you are a symbol of integrity and honesty, of sacrifice for the good of all species." He made no effort to hide a condescending sneer. "You are the Alliance poster child for galactic peace."

She winced at his words, causing her to seek an argument neither one of them could win. "That's not fair, Jack. You saved me for some of the same reasons, so don't act like they're that different from you." She stepped up to him, gritting her teeth, her hand shaking, ready to strike, but he glanced down. She stilled her hand. "And another thing… Fuck you very much for that flattering description."

"Go ahead and hit me," he said.

It was a clear dare, a feigned taunt. All part of the game that would lead to her catharsis, she suspected. So she stared at him for a moment and then looked away. He was right, on all counts. _Damn him_. She crossed her arms over her chest and clenched her jaw. "I don't want to hit you. But… that hurt. It's true, but it still sucks being that person sometimes."

"I know it does. Leadership is a privilege, a higher calling to better the lives of others. But it also comes with a cost, and the sacrifices are great."

"I get it, Jack. You don't have to feed me your daily mantra. Besides, I understand why you won't work with the Alliance again."

"I _am_ sorry, Rebecca." He took her face between his hands touched his forehead to hers. "I don't like disappointing you."

She smiled at him, seeing that he was frustrated too. "It's okay. I'm used to things not going my way, believe it or not." She tried to sound resilient, hopeful even, but judging by his creased brows, the truth showed on her face.

He took hold of her hands, squeezing them gently. "Humanity will need Commander Shepard in the days to come, but today, this man needs the woman, not the title. Just you, Rebecca. We don't know what the future holds. But we have the next few days to ourselves. I'll even delegate some tasks so we have more time."

"Are you serious? You'd cut back for me?"

"Do you think I'm so devoted to my work that I can't take the time to appreciate you? I do what I have to because no one else will, but that doesn't mean I don't value our time together."

"You 'value' it? Like a store values a good customer?"

"Don't be so hypersensitive." He waved away her words with an impatient flick of his wrist. "I honestly don't take you for granted. And I have tremendous admiration and respect for you. But I'd be lying if I said that I don't regret our involvement some days. Our lives are complicated, dangerous, with both of us driven to succeed in everything we do. It was much easier when it was all about casual sex." He paused thoughtfully, fiddling with a pack of cigarettes he pulled from his breast pocket. "But there is nothing casual about us anymore, so my earlier points are moot."

"Christ, you're long-winded today. What the hell are trying to say?"

"Put simply, you keep me grounded. And that is something no one could ever do."

A spark of a smile lit her face. "So… I'm a good influence on you then?"

"Yes. But more importantly, I feel relaxed when we're together. Contented. It's taken me some time to come to terms with that, but I thought you should know."

"Well, I'm glad you told me that," she said, feeling a bit awkward under his thoughtful gaze. "I just hope…." She shook her head. "Forget it."

"No, tell me."

"With me away for months and you busy with Cerberus, I'm not sure-"

"Don't go there, Rebecca. Let's live in the moment."

"You're right." She squared her shoulders, and gave a shudder, shaking off the last trace of cynicism. "You're always right. Thanks for shooting straight with me."

"Did you just say that I am _always_ right?" His smile smacked of deep, personal satisfaction, with a splash of sadistic delight for effect.

"Don't get cocky with me, Harper. I meant that you're always right about _that_ kind of stuff. I can list all the things you've been wrong about if you'd like."

"If that would make you happy, then go right ahead." And he meant it, the sincerity in his voice almost a tangible thing.

Shocking her with selflessness again, her eyes smoldered with affection. " _You_ make me happy." She made sure her kiss held nothing back as she plundered his mouth with her tongue and nipped at his lip with her teeth. "You know, Jack, I was thinking about the credits you said were-"

He touched a finger to her lips. "Stop thinking."

She nodded once, as if to say the previous subjects were now closed. "Okay, so tell me what you have planned for tonight. And it had better be romantic."

A short laugh came from him. "If you're looking for romance, I suggest you get ready for dinner. I think you'll approve of what I have in store for us tonight. Why don't you take a look in that closet?"

"I suppose it's full of expensive dresses," she scoffed. "Are you my sugar daddy now?"

A slight choke and sputter gave way to heavy sigh. "Don't ever call me that again."

"Now who's oversensitive?" She spun around to plant a light kiss on his lips. "I realize you're letting me off easy."

"When your punishment comes later, it will be slow and quite agonizing." He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I can hardly wait."

Frissons of anticipation ran up her spine. The meaning behind his words motivated her to tackle him to the bed. "You sure you don't want to start now?" She slipped her hands inside his shirt, sighing into his mouth as she spread her fingers over his chest.

"Tempting, but…." He grabbed her wrists and flipped her over onto her back in one swift movement, pinning her down beneath him. "I'm hungry." With that, he dragged her from the bed over to the closet. "Pick one. Now."

"Amazing self-control, Jack. You'll have to teach me your secrets." She chattered on and on as she sifted through the dresses, many different styles and colors to choose from. "Ooh, I like this royal blue one. You?" She held it up to her body, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Shower and then put it on. I have something to go with it too."

WIth a grin, she slipped out of the first dress and ran for the shower. She was out within ten minutes, brazenly walking by him in the nude. "You got what you wanted. I'm naked."

"Get into that dress before my resolve fails."

The gown slid down her curves, fitting like a glove and leaving nothing to the imagination. It fitted well, perfectly, with no tags inside the dress, and the right length too. There was a small zipper in the back, hidden by false buttons, making her realize that the dress had probably been custom made. "Did you have _all_ of these made just for me?"

"A woman of your stature deserves the best. This way everyone can enjoy your flawless beauty. Besides, I can't be the only one impeccably dressed tonight."

"What a con job, but thanks anyway." She twirled around, looking over her shoulder into the mirror. "The dress _is_ perfect."

"Not the dress. The woman." Jack appeared in the reflection behind her, captivated. "You are beautiful, Rebecca, in every way."

"Thanks," was all she could say for fear she'd start blubbering some sentimental drivel. Facing the mirror again, she stared at herself, feeling feminine and chic, like Miranda. That made her laugh. "If Miranda could see me now, she'd faint."

"An accurate statement. Here's a little accessory for you." His arms went over her head and he put a necklace around her neck and fastened it. When he was done, his fingers stayed along the side of her neck and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the skin of her shoulder. "Thoughts?"

"Jack, it's gorgeous. I don't recall ever mentioning to you how much I love rubies either," she said, admiring the faceted oval-shaped gems, each set within diamonds in a leaf shape design.

"You never did mention it to me, but you told Miranda."

"Ah. She is _the_ biggest blabbermouth. It is a beautiful necklace though. I'm going to hate leaving it here."

"It's yours to keep. No returns." He kissed the back of her hand, and, in one smoothly elegant motion, twirled her in a circle. "I'm ready to leave if you are," he said, keeping a firm grip on her hand.

"I am most _definitely_ ready."

He helped her step into the shuttle before taking the driver's seat for himself. "We're going to Dulcinea, atop the Corolias Towers. I've reserved the private dining room along with a chamber orchestra for your musical enjoyment."

"For my enjoyment, huh?" He loved classical far more than she did, though she had come to appreciate it more in the last year. "That means we have to dance."

"Yes, it does," was all he said.

They traveled in blissful silence for a while, and Jack seemed to be of the same mind as her. For the remainder of the evening they would pretend they were just another ordinary couple on a romantic date.

"You know, Jack, I've read Don Quixote."

"I know you have," he said, and began a quote from the book, his voice rough with emotion. "'We all look for love in the wrong arms, happiness in the wrong places. But out of it, you've become real. You've got a heart of immense compassion for... the brokenness of others.'"

When he paused, uncharacteristically stumbling over the last words, she continued for him. "'You are utterly incapable of hypocrisy, and I am deeply in love with you.'"

He turned his head, his face shadowed so she couldn't see his expression.

"Perfect, Dulcinea."

Rebecca put her hand on his thigh, softly scratching at the pants' fabric until he covered her hand with his, their fingers intertwining.

* * *

*Dulcinea the name given by Don Quixote to his mistress in Cervantes's romance; more generally, a sweetheart or lover. She's a person for whom Don Quixote relentlessly fights. A reference to someone as one's "Dulcinea" implies hopeless devotion and love for her, and particularly unrequited love. In the musical, a priest sings a song called "To Each His Dulcinea", in which he reflects that although Dulcinea does not exist, the idea of her is what keeps Don Quixote alive and on his quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write, knowing what is in store for them very soon. I struggled with so many parts of it, the mood, Rebecca's sometimes blind love, and Jack's inability to commit fully. But I wanted to show that there are different kinds of love and that Jack is capable, at least at the moment, of giving of himself to her. She inspires him, and she also inspires in him the desire to be a better person, but he struggles to stay the course every day, blinded by his obsessions. I know this is not the most popular of ships, but I think there is so much more to The Illusive Man in the days before ME3 and the Reapers corrupted him.
> 
> I have to thank my friends Biff McLaughlin for the beta/edit and Zute for the content/edit. They helped me to get the vision in my head onto my laptop. I couldn't have done it without their support. Also, Zute is responsible for the dress idea you'll be reading about. If you want to see the inspiration, google for INTIMACY 2.0 by Studio Roosegaarde.


	7. Of Time and Space

_"_ _This is a beautiful start to our vacation, Jack. I can't remember the last time I felt this relaxed."_

Jack stares at Rebecca during the early hours of dawn, her quiet but deep breathing the only sound in the room. Rarely moving, one hand under the pillow, she sleeps well when they're together, when he remains next to her all night, his arms enveloping her with fingers splayed across her stomach. She's at peace in sleep, though she holds him captive by gripping his hand and covering his leg with hers.

His gaze drifts to her scars, the s-shaped one on her neck, the five reddish circles on her shoulder, and numerous other ragged shapes sprinkled across her body. Some have memorable stories; some do not. Those stories, the secret ones, have uneasy thoughts going through his mind, their truths held close to her, private and personal. They were all acquired after her reconstruction, though she never mentions her injuries after a fight, not then and not now, and he wonders why. At the same time, he realizes he hasn't shown overt concern, the kind of concern he'd showed friends in his younger years. Perhaps he'll ask about them now, having crossed into a deeper connection with her.

_"_ _After everything you've done this last year, for humanity, and for me, I thought you deserved it, Rebecca."_

He memorizes the pattern of freckles on her face, an array of stars and constellations, a celestial light shining on him in the shadowy and synthetic world they survive in. The light eases his mind, lessens the torture of long hours with little reward. She's a marvel to him, even if she thinks that's exaggerated praise. But she deserves the reverence, the worship, though he would call it something else later, something like respect or high regard. He smiles and it's not at all false as he studies her, tracing a finger from her forehead to her chin with the lightest of touches. The scars barely glow on her cheek, but he wishes them gone for good, erased like a mistake in an otherwise perfect drawing.

_"_ _Please don't bring the missions into this. _Jesus, Jack. I'm trying to tell you how much I appreciate tonight, and you throw work into the mix."__

She knows the difference her actions make, the footprint she leaves wherever she goes, a savior to the people, providing hope and inspiration. She is a martyr to many. But even as the Alliance, some of her former crewmates, and occasionally the press, see her as a traitor for working with Cerberus, no other person in the galaxy affects people, possesses them, inspires and soothes them, the way she does. She deserves better than what they offer her now, much more than the veiled threats if she doesn't return to Vancouver.

She handles it all with her modest brand of dignity, making her choices and never second-guessing them. After all, she is their future. She knows it, and they know it, the greedy bastards. But doesn't he do the same, leading her on the same way they do? Well, not necessarily leading her on, but mutely hinting at a future filled with rewards, a dream, her castle in Spain. Now he has the chance to make amends for the misgivings of humanity by giving her moments of tenderness, faithfulness, and most of all, honesty. He allows himself to carry on unguarded personal conversations with her, but the reality,  _his_ reality, is beyond an admission of truth, affection, or fidelity. Yes, he owes her the facts, even if it means he will never hold her in his arms again, no peace or afterlife to share. It's an impulsive wish though, his need to give her the same euphoria and sanity she's given him time after time, a delayed response to pass a moment's guilt.

_"_ _I apologize. I'm not minimizing our evening together or your gratitude. I did plan this for weeks, you know. And I was more than happy to do so."_

Favors were called in, employees ordered to procure the best chamber orchestra, the freshest foods, the most romantic of décor, every detail more impressive than the next. He arranged for soft lights to be draped around the private dining room, bathing it in an ethereal glow. She called them fairy lights, and the thought of her child-like wonder at the sight sent a slight shiver through him.

Several small tables were adorned with fresh flowers and the natural radiance of wax candles, their flames flickering in the slight breeze. He even took the liberty of ordering the entire ten-course meal ahead of time, every dish a favorite of hers. From the octopus "a la plancha" with black garlic aioli, to the onion ash crusted lamb with sauce soubise and ramps, and then straight through dessert. The hazelnut tartlet with orange scented milk chocolate gelato had her purring, the sounds she'd made almost like those  _he'd_  elicited from her on many nights.

It all came together to create one perfect evening. To see her smiling and laughing as they danced the night away, his attention to every detail crafted only for her, only added to his delight.

_"_ _I'll never forget this night, Jack. It means a lot to me. It makes me feel... loved."_

She said the word, albeit with a flush and darting eyes, saving him the trouble of an awkward declaration. Part of him wishes she'd force his hand, but that would go against everything that she is.

Over the years, she'd earned so many things, every stripe on her uniform, the belongings needed for survival, to do her job, weapons and armor, crewmates. Even the basics in life, the food, shelter, and clothes were part of the negotiation, dependent on the successes only, failure never being an option. And these things were never given freely by the Alliance but dangled in front of her like bait, like the proverbial carrot. With every mission, each diplomatic meeting, every single well-meaning conversation late into the night with a team member, she was deemed worthy of the goods, the titles, the trust.

He doesn't give her enough now, he knows, while she gives him far too much. A dysfunctional pair of powerful principals in the game. The most ridiculous thing is that she never expects more from anyone, not even him. If she does, she's never says so.

_"_ _Here's to us, Rebecca."_

In between the exceptional moments, he immersed himself in work and other distractions, though it became more and more difficult to find diversions that didn't make him see a vision of her everywhere, on his monitor, in empty glasses, and more likely, in his bed. One diversion that always worked well was the lure of other women. Even that was taken from him, for no woman compares to Commander Rebecca Shepard, in importance and intelligence, bravery and honor. And none has ever caused the internal turmoil, the surreal madness that shakes him to his very core every moment he spends with her. The feelings of protectiveness and possessiveness haunt him, immediate reactions, responses he doesn't have to think about to accomplish.

He's skeptical of love, truly uncertain that it could happen, especially given who they both are and what they represent. But at the same time there is a feeling that overpowers him when he's with her. It controls him, this feeling he can't define that leaves him uninhibited and comfortable.

Maybe that's why he feels it's his job to see that she receives recognition, liberally, with no strings attached, no expectations of having to return favors. Each mewl of delight is cherished then, every adoring gaze bestowed upon him, even when tears threaten to spill. But it's not enough, and never would be.

_"_ _To us."_

And the morning ritual when they are together, the reverence, the invented stories, the elaborate fantasy, is still not adequate. Soon, he'll have only memories of it, slices of time they claimed as their own, remnants of the tranquil hours where the line between lover and loved one blurred.

With a quiet sigh, he moves the light covers off himself and drapes them over her hip, slipping out of bed with little noise. The robe he left on a chair goes on as he walks toward the kitchen with thoughts of a tasty breakfast on his mind.

The delicious aroma of bacon sizzling in the pan is a deliberate tactic designed to wake her up, otherwise she'd sleep until noon. Depending on what followed the meal, breakfast in bed has the potential to top the night they had at Dulcinea, though not likely. Even so, spoiling her is virtually a pastime.

He stares into the frying pan, remembering the soft look on her face as she thanked him for the evening properly. They were back at the house, the night air cool and clear, with moonlight casting shadows all around them on the balcony. At first, she expressed her thanks as if somewhat surprised at his thoughtfulness.

_"_ _You did this all for me, and I appreciate it, but… did you enjoy tonight too?"_

_"_ _Of course I did. Because_ you did."

She responded with a sweetness he hadn't counted on seeing, saying no one had ever gone to such lengths, doing everything in their power to give her a night of relaxation, fun, and decadence, a night of complete nirvana. As she moved closer to him, unshed tears speaking what she wouldn't voice, her lips met his in a tender kiss, with all the happiness of a soul reborn, and all the heat and desire of a woman in love. Breathless against his mouth, she smiled and told him that he was her guardian and protector.

He had no response to those designations as he'd assigned them to his lifelong quest to save humanity from the Reapers and not to any real relationship. He remained silent, but kept a smug eye on her, with a slight smile gracing his lips.

As rewarding as it was to hear, inspiring even, her words didn't do a thing to ease the guilt he feels for the things he's done with her and to her, nor did they lessen the inner disquiet he feels for his lack of self-control where she is concerned. Even as part of his brain struggles to register that he doesn't want to need her, doesn't want to love her, she consistently takes him away to a place where there is no reality. Where he can let himself go. He doesn't want to take from her what he can't give in return, but neither can he give her up. He suspects she already knows he lacks the faith, the dependability to love her properly. Why that hasn't made her run as far away from him as she can, he doesn't understand, because the man she thinks she knows is not worthy of her. Maybe no one is.

So he continues to pamper her, occasionally easing the guilt with the thoughtful gestures and affectionate touches she craves.

After they returned from Dulcinea, he let her guide the evening. A game of strip poker came first, every hand close, their clothes peeling off with a slowness that rivaled the progress of geological formation. He won in the end, of course, but it wasn't until the last hand that a winner was formally declared, though he lamented the ominous play of the cards.

_"_ _I believe I've beaten you, Jack. Kings over nines, sucker. Get that underwear off!"_

_"_ _I hate to see that beautiful smile fade, but read 'em and weep, my dear Rebecca. Aces over eights."_

_"_ _What? Two pairs, black… I can't believe it."_

_"_ _Losing is tough to take. Embarrassing even."_

_"_ _Yeah, right. You win."_

_"_ _Why the frown? You almost had me beat. That has to count for something."_

_"_ _No, it's… it's the dead man's hand, Jack. Aces over eights. You know, Wild Bill Hickok and all that wild west lore?"_

_"_ _Of course I know of it. But I'm neither a gunslinger nor an outlaw."_

_"_ _You_ are _an outlaw of sorts. And you know how superstitious I am. I bet Dulcinea is on the thirteenth floor too."_

_"_ _Two hundred and sixty-third, actually."_

When he saw she wasn't moving, he went to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer for a kiss that was intended to make her forget everything but him. Instead, her fists pounded on his shoulders, then the table, and she swiped the cards off with a hiss. He laughed, waving away her fit and scoffing at the absurdity of superstition.

_"_ _Why don't you help me get these boxers off instead of worrying about any bad luck befalling you?"_

_"_ _Us, you mean. And if that was your attempt to seduce me, Jack, it sucked."_

_"_ _Ouch."_

He sipped his drink, reminding himself that he didn't believe in superstition.

" _Allow me to try a different tack then."_

He attempted a manly sort of pout, his brows drawing together slightly, and his feigned hurt elicited the desired effect. A fragile smile emerged, until her lips met his again. The kiss was short, too short for him, but all his time with her seemed fraught with fleeting moments.

He then suggested that a midnight snack of ice cream and brownies would hit the spot, remembering that she'd mentioned how chocolate held supreme power over her moods. The beauty of the second high-calorie dessert of the night was that it then called for the burning of calories. She didn't argue with him when he began licking the ice cream he'd delicately drizzled in a line from her belly button down to her thigh.

The sex afterwards was practically acrobatic as they took turns being the submissive lover, much to her enjoyment. Relinquishment of control wasn't particularly hard when it came to sex, but he made sure to pin her to whatever she was up against a bit harder each time, to kiss her with more fierceness, and on occasion, to leave his mark on her. She didn't complain when her inner thigh bruised or when the back of her head hit the wall a little too hard, because she enjoyed wrestling for power. He let her win here and there, even let her swipe the feet out from under him once, which sent him tumbling onto the bed. His reward was unequalled afterward, with her bestowing what was quite possibly the best oral sex of his life.

The antics didn't last though.

Later on the balcony as she stood wrapped in his shirt staring off at the moon, the clouds stealing across its bright glow, he came up behind her, intent on drawing her back to the moment. His fingers gently circled the knots of muscles below her shoulders, while his lips found the nape of her neck.

_"_ _What are you thinking about?"_

_"_ _The next few weeks. Vancouver… Us."_

_"_ _I have agents working within the Alliance. I'll get in touch with you somehow."_

When she turned to him, her face melancholy and drawn, his heart seized. The events of recent weeks mingled with the dim future finally caught up with her. He was at a loss for words. All he could do was pull her in close and hold her. She buried her face in his shoulder, her whole body shuddering a little, and he murmured something soothing as he cuddled her closer.

_"_ _I'm not crying."_

_"_ _Go ahead if you want to."_

She slumped in his embrace as he stroked her hair. Though she was resistant at first, he managed to tip her chin, so their faces were a few inches apart. She couldn't hide the tears, her expression vulnerable. Beautiful.

_"_ _Rebecca."_

Her name always came easy to him. It was the rest that got caught in his throat like a dry piece of toast.

She looked at him with a quiet longing, a hint of pity in her furrowed brows, but her expression changed quickly to an emotion trapped somewhere between lust and love.

_"_ _It's okay, Jack. I'll be fine."_

He intended to comfort her further, but the words weren't there and all he could say was, "I'm sorry." His mind wandered, making it difficult to focus on what he wanted to say, and once he figured that out, how to say it like Jack Harper and not the Illusive Man.  _She'll be safe in Vancouver, the Alliance would see to it._  And she'll handle the solitary well, given her penchant for privacy and solitude as long as he's known her. While he was ruminating over what he should and shouldn't worry about, her hand brushed his cheek with a gesture so tender and intimate, that once more, he wasn't sure how to react.

_"_ _I hate that look on your face, Jack. Please don't worry about me while I'm gone. Promise me you won't."_

It's completely his fault that she knows him so well. She's selfless and a giver, putting others first far too often, and he has so many feelings about that particular quality. He despises it most of the time, relishes it when it is directed at him, and is jealous of it when he can't return the same, but most of all he is enamored with it. That's his goddamn fault too.

_"_ _I don't make promises, Rebecca, and I don't ask for them."_

_"_ _I don't care what you don't do. Promise me anyway, Jack."_

He protested, but she insisted as she forced him to sit on the couch as she sat close, facing him.

_"_ _Consider it an early birthday gift. You're fond of giving me expensive things. Well, what I'm asking for would be priceless in my eyes."_

_"_ _I'd rather give you-"_

_"_ _Please."_

'Please' is a word she rarely uses, and she sounded so weary and lost.

_"_ _All right. I won't worry. You have my word."_

She sighed and ran her thumb across his cheek.

_"_ _You're lying. And I love you for it."_

He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

It was an infuriating trick, of course, but in the light of the morning he finds the humor in it, as well as the banal and the bittersweet mingling in equal parts. He makes a mental note to get a list of Cerberus spies in the Alliance offices in Vancouver as soon as possible.

Outside the window, he spies a storm rolling in, a steady rain dampening the balcony with small puddles. Distant thunder rolls as grey clouds drift across the sky, the noise enough to drown out any other sounds in the house. But a slight ping from the alarm panel behind the refrigerator alerts him to movement in the bedroom. He turns on the monitor for a minute and sees her stretching and yawning before wrapping a light blanket around herself. She has a curious, mischievous look on her face, her tentative steps giving away her plan.

Another ping, this time a call from Cronos. It's Leng, and he has to take the call, but he'll make it quick.

He half-listens to Leng's synopses, instead straining his ears to pick up her quiet footfalls.

"Yes. Have Jana send him to Grissom."

_She'll like that._

"I have my reasons. Just do it." He grabs a dozen eggs from the fridge, his back still to the doorway.

"Yes. Put the order out. There are only so many places for a man with his skills to hide. Start by taking a couple operatives with you to various Cerberus labs for questioning."

_Archer, that dolt. She should've killed him when she had the chance._

"Not for several days. If anything urgent arises, contact me by the same means you did today."

_Just to make it clear that our vacation is far from over_.

"Increased processing power will be of great use to us. Now that we have it, I want it delivered to Cronos intact," he says with equal parts triumph and arrogance. "Make sure the recovery team is well equipped to so."

_She'll give me shit about that, I'm sure._

"We owe  _everything_  to Shepard. Never forget that, Leng. Goodbye."

This isn't the first time Jack says the name "Kai Leng" though he's been very secretive about the operative, telling her that Leng is a highly skilled infiltrator but little else. She'll quiz him soon enough, but she's a few feet from him now, ready to pounce.

He stands in front of the stove, pushing bacon around in the pan as she tiptoes into the kitchen. Carefully he places the well-done bacon onto sheets of absorbent paper towel, straightening each one like a hash mark. He can't hear her breathing, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as she closes in on him.

"Are you hungry, Rebecca?" He continues arranging the bacon without sparing her a glance.

"Damn it, Jack. You suck" She stares at the floor, trying to figure out what gave her away.

When she looks up, he is staring at her, his eyes dark and unreadable until his gaze roams up and down her body, settling on her bare thighs for a moment. When he sees her forlorn face, his smile deflates. "There are sensors in every room. I wouldn't have known otherwise."

"So you cheated? Figures." She laughs and steals a slice of bacon. "Squeezing in some work while I'm sleeping, huh?"

"Just a few things. Nothing critical."

"No? A big delivery to Cronus sounds critical."

"Not something I need to manage right now."

"Are you crazy?" she asks, a fleeting yet violent expression ghosting over her face. "You shouldn't be anywhere near that thing. Fucking Reaper tech."

"I won't be." He looks into her eyes as if he is looking for something, someone, a long way off, beyond reach. But as she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him closer, an intense yearning engulfs him, dispelling the faraway thoughts.

"Mind if I borrow your blanket?" he asks, his lips hot on her neck.

"Only if I can borrow your robe," she says, and squeezes his ass for emphasis.

"Deal." He steps back and with a tug, the robe falls away from his body, leaving him bare.

"Always have to be first, don't you?" She lets the blanket drop from her shoulders. "I'll be waiting for my breakfast in bed, cheater!"

She sprints away, naked and gloriously happy, but he's wondering why this hasn't all blown up in his face yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse has little interest in poking me lately, but I've had this sitting around for a while mostly done and thought I'd share some more of the dynamic between Jack and Rebecca after their big night at Dulcinea. Thanks for all the support and readership along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little holiday cheer for my friend, the lovely and witty, Zute. It was meant to be some sort of PWP one shot, but now it will be more than one chapter since I've wanted to explore this relationship for a while now. (Sorry Zute, you'll have to wait a little while for the porn.) The Illusive Man may have said he wasn't looking for a dance partner when he brought Shepard back from the dead, but I didn't quite believe him. This starts during ME2 shortly before the final mission.


End file.
